Recorded by: Buddy Wasisname and the Other Fellers
Written by: Ray Johnson
Lyrics
Now when I was a younger boy
To the Droke cliff I would stroll
And climb the fence, and sit on the rock
To view the waters below
It’s where I’d sit and meditate
About the men on the sea
And quickly turn my head to the point
Where fishermen used to be.
My thoughts of the trawls, the boats, the traps
It was the thing of the day
And the brook that ran down through the Droke
That made its way to the bay
The fish on the flakes, oh goodness sake
It was a sight to be seen
And the caplin rolling on the beach
Where fishermen used to be.
I remember the names of men in the cove
Who worked so late in the night
They worked the soil, and made the hay
When the weather was right
And further down the old long drung
The horses running free
And in the meadows by the brook
Where fishermen used to be.
Now a special time for everyone
Is about to get under way
The cakes, the bread, the pots of soup
Is now the talk of the day
The school is lit, the fire is in
With everyone in their glee
For in on the floor, there’s dancing galore
Where fishermen used to be.
The school and sea are empty now,
They were so precious to me
A way of life no longer there
It’s just a memory
But it’s hard to forget the days of the past
With everyone in their glee
And to think of it now and what it was like
Where fishermen used to be.
I often stroll down the wharf
With my daughter hand in hand
She asked me how it used to be
When I was a younger man
It’s there I’d sit and meditate
About the men and the sea
And point to all those places
Where fishermen used to be.
