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