Interpret:

Gordon Lightfoot

Album:

Sunday Concert

There was a time in this fair land 
When the railroad did not run
When the wild majestic mountains 
Stood alone against the sun
Long before the white man 
And long before the wheel
When the green dark forest was too silent to be real 


But time has no beginnings 
And the history has no bounds
As to this verdant country 
They came from all around
They sailed upon her waterways 
And they walked the forests tall
Built the mines, mills and the factories 
For the good of us all


And when the young man's fancy 
Was turnin' to the spring
The railroad men grew restless 
For to hear the hammers ring
Their minds were overflowing 
With the visions of their day
And many a fortune lost and won 
And many a debt to pay


For they looked in the future 
And what did they see
They saw an iron road running 
From the sea to the sea
Bringing the goods to a young growing land
All up from the seaports and into their hands


"Look away", said they, "across this mighty land
From the eastern shore to the western strand"


Bring in the workers and bring up the rails
We gotta lay down the tracks and tear up the trails
Open her heart let the life blood flow
Gotta get on our way 'cause we're moving too slow


Bring in the workers and bring up the rails
We're gonna lay down the tracks and tear up the trails
Open her heart let the life blood flow
Gotta get on our way 'cause we're moving too slow
Get on our way 'cause we're moving too slow


Behind the blue Rockies the sun is declining
The stars they come stealing 
At the close of the day
Across the wide prairie our loved ones lie sleeping
Beyond the dark ocean in a place far away 


We are the navvies who work upon the railway
Swinging our hammers in the bright blazing sun
Living on stew and drinking bad whiskey
Bending our backs 'til the long days are done


We are the navvies who work upon the railway
Swinging our hammers in the bright blazing sun
Laying down track and building the bridges
Bending our old backs 'til the railroad is done 


So over the mountains and over the plains
Into the muskeg and into the rain
Up the St. Lawrence all the way to Gaspe
Swinging our hammers and drawing our pay
Layin' 'em in and tying them down
Away to the bunkhouse and into the town
A dollar a day and a place for my head
A drink to the living, a toast to the dead


Oh the song of the future has been sung
All the battles have been won
On the mountain tops we stand
All the world at our command
We have opened up the soil
With our teardrops and our toil 


For there was a time in this fair land 
When the railroad did not run
When the wild majestic mountains 
Stood alone against the sun
Long before the white man 
And long before the wheel
When the green dark forest was too silent to be real
When the green dark forest was too silent to be real
And many are the dead men too silent... to be real