Recorded by: Buddy Wasisname and the Other Fellers
Written by: Wayne Chaulk


Billy Drover’s dead and gone, there’s nothing left but the bones
Nature’s working overtime to take down his old home
Legs are rotten’ back is bent and the windows they just stare
After fifteen kids it’s hard to believe that there’s no one living there.

There was smoke from the chimney
Youngsters screaming, smell of homemade bread
Spuds in the cellar and pickles in the pantry
And lots of wood in the shed.
Try to remember the two-storey house
Nestled down in the cove
‘Cause if you go back you’ll probably find
A spot where the alders grow.

Clearly I remember now the wooden shingled box
A long fully loaded clothesline and a hundred hand knit socks
A pile of slabs and a choppin’ block, a swing in the apple tree
Shed on the wharf down across the cove and an outhouse over the sea.


Lilac laden summer winds leaping through long hay
Curtain tongues through open windows, white caps on the bay
Capelin corpses neatly laid on flakes of black spruce boughs
Stouts and flies and bumblebees and an old tailswinging cow.