There was a time in this fair land when the railroad did not run
Then the wild majestic mountains stood alone against the sun
Long before the white man and long before the wheel
When the green dark forest was too silent to be real
But time has no beginnings and history has no bounds
As to this verdant country they came from all around
They sailed upon her waterways and they walked the forest tall
Built the mines, mills and the factories for the good of us all
And when the young man's fancy was turning to the spring
The railroad men grew restless for to hear the hammers ring
Their minds were overflowing with the visions of their days
And many a fortune lost and one and many a debt to pay
For they looked in the future and what did they see?
The sun-iron road running from the sea to the sea
Bringing the goods to the young grown land
All up from the seaboard sent into their hands
Look away, said they, across this mighty land
From the eastern shore to the western strand
Bring in the workers and bring up the rails
We gotta lay down the tracks and tear up the trails
Open your heart, let the light flood flow
Gotta get on our way cause we're moving too slow
Bring in the workers and bring up the rails
We gotta lay down the tracks and tear up the trails
Open your heart, let the light flood flow
Gotta get on our way cause we're moving too slow
Get on our way cause we're moving too slow
Behind the blue Rockies the sun is declining
The stars they come stealing at the close of the day
Across the wide prairie our loved ones lie sleeping
Beyond the dark oceans in a place far away
We are the navvies who work upon the railway
Swinging our hammers in the bright blazing sun
Living on stew and drinking bad whiskey
Bending our backs till the long days are done
We are the navvies who work upon the railway
Swinging our hammers in the bright blazing sun
Laying down track and building the bridges
Bending our backs till the railroad is done
So over the mountains and over the plains
Into the muskeg and into the rain
Up the St. Lawrence all the way to Gaspé
Swinging our hammers and drawing our pain
Laying them in and tying them down
Away to the bunkhouse and into the town
A dollar a day and a place for my head
A drink to the living and a toast to the dead
Oh the song of the future has been sung
All the battles have been won
On the mountain tops we stand
All the world at our command
We have opened up the soil with our teardrops
And our toil
For there was a time in this fair land
When the railroad did not run
When the wild majestic mountains stood alone against the sun
Long before the white man and long before the wheel
When the green dark forest was too silent to be real
When the green dark forest was too silent to be real
And many other dead men
Too silent
To be real