The Cutter
When you arrived in Canada you walked the streets Out of work out of money, prospects bleak Now the plane comes down from the morning sky And you touch the land where the fire won't die
Johnny, you're home, man It's a long road You drove us down It's only a moment Since the diesels turned
Now the blade cuts clean through the island soil The years roll back and the world grows small You stand on the banks in the wind and the rain And all of your money now can't hide this pain
So you hold your mother and you bless the air With the tears of the emigrant, tongue of the Gael And the plane takes off in a clear blue sky Life's a long lost list of last goodbyes
The heath flame is burning bright Burning every night It's winter in Ontario The wheels that turned us village kids Still carry through the heaths They no longer turn for you
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