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Bill O'Brien Is Going Home
PO (1988 / St John's, NL)

Bill O'Brien Is Going Home

Bill O’Brien is going home,
Now that he is dead,
To be buried in his native peat,
As the stipulations read
In the handwritten will he made
The very week before he died,
In a burial plot in the parish graves
With bones we’d thought we’d left behind.

………………………………………………………

They held for him a lovely wake
And the fiddler played rosin the bow
And the entire harbour quaked
To know the man was coming home.

And when I heard the mass bell was ringing
And the dear eulogies were said,
I thought of how Old Bill went home
And wished it were me who had died instead.

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