This land is barren and broken,
Scarred like the face of the moon,
Our tongue is no longer spoken,
And the towns around us face ruin,
Will there be work in New Brunswick?
Will I find gold in the Cape?
If I tunnel my way to Australia,
Oh will I ever escape?
Where there’s a mine or a hole in the ground,
That’s what I’m heading for, that’s where I’m bound,
So look for me under the lode or inside the vein,
Where the copper, the clay, the arsenic and tin,
Run in your blood and get under your skin,
I’m leaving the county behind, I’m not coming back,
Oh follow me down cousin Jack
The soil was too poor to make Eden,
Granite and sea left no choice,
Though visions of heaven sustained us,
When John Wesley gave us a voice,
Did Joseph once come to St Michael’s Mount?
Two thousand years passed in a dream,
When you’re working your way in the darkness,
Deep in the heart of the seam
I dream of a bridge cross the Tamar,
It opens us up to the East,
And the English, they live in our houses,
The Spanish, they fish in our seas