Dawson, be my guide ft. Efrat Lyrics

O siren call

Don't call to me

I'm trading in the poplar for the pine tree

Wages keep us anchored to the sea

For ten long years

I've held my breath

And the raises we were promised haven't gone through yet

They see budgets but I see death

Dawson, be my guide

Dawson, be my guide

Well there was one

From long ago

At night she'd sing to me through the radio

Now she sings for the carrion crow

And all that man

Might seek to find

I found beneath waves off the Dawson line

They dance to fiddle and they call it old-time

Dawson, be my guide

Dawson, be my guide

So if you go

Don't think to much

Accept that we all die within fortune's clutch

She sang in French but she dreams in Dutch

And so my god

My rifle's clean

And I will lay my life in my native peat

And let Saint Lawrence wash my feet

And Dawson be my guide

Let Dawson be my guide