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2. |
Northern Mystery
04:23
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Tired of the city life and
Yearning for northern pine stands
Ever-calling
They gave notice to the boss for Leaving for good out the door
All the way smiling
They traded comfort for the trail
To the north wind set sail
Free and clear
Let the wind and waters guid em
At the mercy of the
Raw-land frontier
In the Arms of the Big Lake
The charms of long summer days
Treelines never-ending
The Great Northern Mystery
Journeyed all on through the heartland
Tired from the summer heat and
So many miles
Scaled every rock hilltop
Drank from her icy water
So clear and wild
Feet burned on lonesome white sand
Hands froze through sudden fog and
Relentless wind
Every-rambling at the lake edge
Under watchful eyes of the
Painted Legends
In the Arms of the Big Lake
The charms of long summer days
Treelines never-ending
The Great Northern Mystery
Humbled by the elements now,
Wiser than the other folks who
Never left town
Seldom looking back behind em
Just some dusty tracks tell where they’d been
In the Arms of the Big Lake
The charms of long summer days
Treelines never-ending
The Great Northern Mystery
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3. |
The Old Canoe
03:55
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My seams gape wide, so I'm tossed aside
To rot on a lonely shore
While the leaves and mould like a shroud enfold, For the last of my trails are o'er;
But I float in dreams on Northland streams
That never again I'll see,
As I lie on the marge of the old portage
With grief for company.
When the sunset gilds the timbered hills That guard Timagami,
And the moonbeams play on far James Bay By the brink of the frozen sea,
In phantom guise my spirit flies
As the dream-blades dip and swing
Where the waters flow from the Long Ago In the spell of the beck'ning spring.
Do the cow-moose call on the Montreal
When the first frost bites the air,
And the mists unfold from the red and gold
That the autumn ridges wear?
When the white falls roar as they did of yore
On the Lady Evelyn,
Do the square-tail leap from the black pools deep Where the pictured rocks begin?
Oh! the fur-fleets sing on Timiskaming
As the ashen paddles bend,
And the crews carouse at Rupert House
At the sullen winter's end;
But my days are done where the lean wolves run
And I ripple no more the path
Where the gray geese race 'cross the red moon's face From the white wind's Arctic wrath.
Tho' the death-fraught way from the Saguenay to the storied Nipigon
Once knew me well, now a crumbling shell
I watch the years roll on,
While in memory's haze I live the days That forever are gone from me,
As I lie on the marge of the old portage With grief for company
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4. |
Farewell Acadia
03:58
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Heavy fog sets in low,
O’er this quiet land
Just like so many years ago,
Holding my Mother’s hand
A full moon hangs calmly,
O’er our valley’s heartland
Once salty and unruly,
Became our fertile garden
But it’s off to the wharf in the morning sun,
Down to the hold for weeks or months,
Through the unknown with our daughters and sons,
Farewell Acadia
Through the fog I see them,
The planters of New England
Arriving, settling,
Reaping all we’re losing
But a light breeze whips the waters,
And bends the grass of our dykelands
Whispering her last words,
“You’ll find your way back again”
But it’s off to the wharf in the morning sun,
Down to the hold for weeks or months,
Through the unknown with our daughters and sons,
Farewell Acadia, I’ll Find my way back again
Farewell Acadia, I’ll Find my way back again
Farewell Acadia, I’ll Find my way back again
Farewell Acadia, I’ll Find my way back again
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5. |
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M’en revenant de la jolie Rochelle,
M’en revenant de la jolie Rochelle,
J’ai rencontré trois jolies demoiselles.
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène, qui nous mène,
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène en haut.
J’ai point choisi, mais j’ai pris la plus belle.
J’ai point choisi, mais j’ai pris la plus belle
J’l’y fis monter derrièr’ moi, sur ma selle
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène, qui nous mène,
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène en haut.
J’y fis cent lieues sans parler avec elle
J’y fis cent lieues sans parler avec elle
Au bout d’cent lieues, ell’ me d’mandit à boire.
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène, qui nous mène,
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène en haut.
Je l’ai menée auprès d’une fontaine
Je l’ai menée auprès d’une fontaine
Quand ell’ fut là, ell’ ne voulut point boire.
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène, qui nous mène,
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène en haut.
Je l’ai menée au logis de son père
Je l’ai menée au logis de son père
Quand ell’ fut là, ell buvait à pleins verres.
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène, qui nous mène,
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène en haut.
A la santé de son père et sa mère
A la santé de son père et sa mère
A la santé d’celui que son coeur aime.
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène, qui nous mène,
C’est l’aviron qui nous mène en haut.
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6. |
Little Boats Sway
03:43
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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
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7. |
Faded Feathers
05:23
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Andy was a quiet man
Never raised his voice or hand
Worked an honest job at the plant
Scraping by was never the plan but
Good work was hard to find
In that dusty nowhere land
He’d drive down to the dock
When he wasn’t on the clock
Gaze across at the rugged rock
Take to the woods and walk and
Ponder off and puff a smoke
Speak the Silent language he knows
He had those Faded Feathers on his arm
A symbol of the past dear to his heart
In his eyes simpler times
He longs to be part
All in those Faded Feathers
Of a Dream Catcher on his arm
Well, he thought he’d take a stand
Try his luck and play a hand
Drive down to the ‘promised land’
Where the ‘work is plentiful’ and
‘All the girls are pretty’ and ‘there’s lots of money’
He wandered down the streets of old Montreal
Under all those buildings feeling small
When his eyes caught a mural painted on a wall
Of the Same Faded Feathers
Of a Dream Catcher on his arm
Signs seem to stop the time
Doves fly and bells chime
Stars fill up your eyes
Oh Andy, you’re doing fine
Well, he made his money
But things weren’t as they seemed ‘cause
The city was a broken dream
Promises all empty and
He longed for the quiet streams
Of the Rugged Country
So now he’s living out his days
In the little quiet place
The city lights glow far away
That’s where they’ll always stay cause Its not home there anyway
Now there’s nothing he would trade
He had those Faded Feathers on his arm
A symbol of the past dear to his heart
In his eyes simpler times
He longs to be part
All in those Faded Feathers
Of a Dream Catcher on his arm
He wandered down the streets of Old Montreal
Under all those buildings feeling small
When his eyes caught a mural painted on a wall
Of the Same Faded Feathers
Of a Dream Catcher
Perfectly weathered, on his arm
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8. |
Half Lit
02:30
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Well, it’s another fine day to be alive
Light breeze in the air, not a cloud in the sky
I took the 20 footer for a little ride at low tide,
A see a receding shoreline,
Even Petit-Pas went under
By the map, she survives
The clouds on the distant horizon line Drive us back inside,
Where we’ll Get Half Lit
Before the storm hits and
We Won’t Quit
Til she’s long over with,
Well it’s not our first time
On the front line
To Get Half Lit
Well, we all slept soundly throughout the night
From Grace Bay on to PEI
Like a baby with its bottle in the morning time
A good laugh and a cry
She flattened the trees and hydro lines,
A couple a houses and plenty of signs,
We all lost power but kept our minds
So We’ll be alright
Where we’ll Get Half Lit
Before the storm hits and
We Won’t Quit
Til she’s long over with,
Well it’s not our first time
On the front line
To Get Half Lit
Well, it’s another fine day to be alive
Good breeze in the air, not a cloud in the sky
Swells to the choppy horizon line
But we survived,
Well I guess it just wasn’t our time
Throwing caution to the wind is the way of life
And to waste another day is such a crime
Bein in our prime
Where we’ll Get Half Lit
Before the storm hits and
We Won’t Quit
Til she’s long over with,
Well it’s not our first time
On the front line
To Get Half Lit
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Adam Ruzzo
My original music springs from my experiences roaming Canada; stories of folks who live unapologetically, a simple and rewarding life; living on the edge, from the North West Territories, to Newfoundland. I find inspiration in the wild landscapes of Canada, including Algonquin Park and through my original compositions, try to convey musically the awe inspiring beauty so evocative of these places. ... more
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