Poetry

Not the first and last farewell to Nova Scotia

Can’t stay pass a few days before Christmas,
Cause Harper don’t want me on the dole, it’s clear,
Farewell Nova Scotia; Gotta get going; Gotta go West!
I am counting the miles; building up the days between us.
First time, I lasted two days but now I’ll stay for a year,
Farewell Nova Scotia; Gotta get going; Gotta go West!
I sing to lull a mind that can never leave my sea bound coast,
Red eyes on a highway far away on the flat prairies tossed,
Farewell Nova Scotia; Gotta get going; Gotta go West!

I have a boat but there ain’t no fish. Fish harder!
Still can’t pay your bills on a three buck lobster,
My bank account has more holes than my nets,
With the catch of the day made up of my debts.

How the Fish Lords are staying home,
Making money sitting comfortably,
Making money handsomely,
Selling quotas of fish made of paper
While watching the Deadliest Catch on TV,
Never having to spend one day at sea.

I have a boat but there ain’t no fish. Fish harder!
Still can’t pay your bills on a three buck lobster,
My bank account has more holes than my nets,
And only oil will help me getting rid of my debts.

I’ll trade my hat; I’ll trade my boots,
To join my three brothers working west,
Poor fisherman like me now camp labor,
A money’s exile never becoming any easier,
But my dream won’t rest,
Until I’ve taken back my hat and those boots.

I have a boat but there ain’t no fish. Fish harder!
Still can’t pay your bills on a three buck lobster,
Farewell Nova Scotia, I may be far away,
But I will never – never have moved away…

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