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Sails on the ocean far out on the tide
Fish in large baskets come over the side
Languages spoken we don't understand
Staking the claims on a forsaken land
Flags of strange colors wave in the breeze
Homesteads in hiding send smoke to the trees
Cannons like lions on guard in the bays
And women spread fish in the sun on the flakes
Our history has shaped us over the years
Through a mixture of hope desperation and fear
But now a new fantasy beckons and calls
And our music is playing the Hibernia Waltz
Fishplants refineries and stock markets close
And ashes where fishermen hauled up their boats
Now some vote for fish and some vote for oil
While executives dance around looking for spoils
Then pictures of oil rigs were home from our walls
And childrens grandchildren their stories recall
Fishing boats bob in the black gleaming wave
Up anchors gone searching new fortunes to make
Oh feel the fish tug on the hooks on the gear
And smell the faint perfume of salt in the air
Old fishermen smiling out on the sea walls
And hum the last bars of the Hibernia Waltz
Oh feel the fish tug on the hooks on the gear
And smell the faint perfume of salt in the air
And no one remembers the music at all
As they hum the last bars of the Hibernia Waltz