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Norway Yawl


There were men that my father knew
Worked oars as well as a plough
Strong men who came home like the waves on the shore
But these old men are all gone now

The Norway yawls lie tattered and broken
On the earth where the old men now lie
They have earned their sleep but I would keep hold
Of the life that with them has died

And there are no men left in Derry
None in Donegal
There are no men left on Islay
Build me a Norway yawl

They fished the grounds off Ardara
Took the herring from off Tory Isle
But the old men are all gone now
And we can't believe our time

We have not the life of the fisherman
And our hardships are nothing besides
Our hands are not battered and frozen
Upon oars opposing the tide

Ran the yawls from St John's to Port Ellen
Rathlin, Port Stewart and Glengad
Tory and Derry and Moville between
The lines that are part of our past

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