Grosse Island 


My name is Shane McBride

I've been raised upon this countryside

But it ain't my home

It's not where my Daddy roamed


The Desjardins have been good to me

They treat me just like family

Life's good on their farm

But I miss my Mother's arms


After ninety days we could hardly tell

If we traded our hunger for a darker hell

The coffin ships buried eight thousand at sea

Sometimes at night I think they're coming back for me


There are emeralds on Grosse Island

And they once shined from their home across the sea


Since the day we were quarantined

My sister's face I have never seen

Some say she'd been saved

Hope is the epitaph of each unmarked grave


When the night wind is still I hear the dead

Crying out from the famine sheds

For all that they lost

There hangs a ghost upon the Celtic Cross


Copyright 1997 SJP Music