Where did our village go? Where did it go
I hear silence where its spirit used to flow
No life now on the beaches or the wharves
No boats to disappear in wild sea troughs
The silence of the dawn like thunder roars
Since no skiffs depart the wharves to fish the shores
No laughter where the children used to play
Now only dreams, of scenes, of yesterday
No boys in cut-off boots cutting tongues
No fence posts where damaged nets were hung
No beaches lined with miles of drying cod
No dedicated Sealing Fleets to guard
No silver sands lightened with Capelin spawn
Nothing now but silence, at break of dawn
No seagulls trailing, trailing trap skiffs with their haul
No Sunday games where men and boys play ball
No hockey on the pond where we would play
Since all the youth have left and gone away
No beaches filled with boats up for repair
Only empty shells of boats lie idle rotting there
The spirit of the past, a ghostly thread
That tells us that our culture is nearly dead
And I wonder if we can reverse the trend
Before our village will forever end