From the recording The Waters That Bind
This song was inspired by my time in Lunenburg Nova Scotia, but can really apply to any coastal community in Atlantic Canada. So many of these coastal communities - if not all - began as simple fishing villages. The men would go out for weeks at a time or longer, in any time of year, in unpredictable weather and waters, to catch cod in order to feed and financially support their families. Not all made it back home, often entire Dorys (who were full of men related to each other) would succumb to the frigid Atlantic's wrath and all members would tragically disappear under the waves. Now that fishing has become a smaller industry, tourism has taken its place, as in the case of Lunenburg. The average tourist has no idea the hardships faced by so many generations past and the tragedies that would play out on the very docks they now stroll in the carefree days of summer. The reality is that the names of the heroic deceased community members are forgotten as quickly as they are heard on a tour in the middle of a family vacation. This song is a commentary about all of that.
Adam Ruzzo - Vocals, Guitars
Lyrics
The little boats sway,
Under the bright Milky Way
In a deep summer’s calm,
Miles from the life of old days
This tourist town,
Once knew the sound
Of the boys crashing home from the banks
From the plentiful grounds,
With thousands of pounds
Of cod earned the hard way
But we’ll never know their names,
And they’ll never know true fame
The Bluenose sailed on,
A replica floats in her place,
Yet the crowds linger on,
Anything puts a smile to their face
But the old guys who walk,
Their days on the dock,
Remember the truth in their day
And the tales of bravery on the high sea,
Gone with them down to their graves
And we’ll never know their names,
They’ll never know true fame
The little boats sway,
Under the bright Milky Way
In a deep summer’s calm,
Miles from the life of old days
This tourist town,
Once knew the sound
Of the boys crashing home from the banks
From the plentiful grounds,
With thousands of pounds
And tales they’ll forget in old age
But we’ll never know their names,
And they’ll never know true fame