I’ll sing you a song of the path you have trod,

How you got all the wood without someone being "drowned"

tis a wonder to all and the mercy of God.

Our Skipper comes out every morn to call out "

 come all you wild drivers be up and alive.

 I think it’s all right to drive out all night while the winds in our favor

we surely must drive."

There’s men from the Green Bay and men from Seal Cove,

Gord Parsons is down on the freshwater gate.

But the men that’s up here to bring down the rear,

 is the wild bunch of drivers that comes from camp 8.

There’s Mills and Wils Pynn and all of the men,

that worked up at Cross Pond where the wild poppies grow,

They got all the wood and we think they done good,

For you can’t move a junk when the water is low.

And now I must mention the boat in Pine Pond,

Her tank is gone out and we can’t get it back;

Her oil can is leaky, the rudder is missing,

her shaft is plied up and the Blades they are slack.

When a boom you will tow, you can’t get her to go,

Her cheeks are all stuck and the gas it won't burn,

put a rope on her stern and try her again

for she works like the devil when she goes astern

"Now try her once more" said the brother Stan Dwyer

Give her oil through the throttle and p’raps she will work,

Says I "so she do" for tis only too true

She can’t get her oil from the tank in Baie Verte.

When you gets her to go she works very slow

She burns up her primming and then she will stop;

But when she gets her oil every man wears a smile,

You opens her out and she works like a top.

Stan said unto me one fine Tuesday evening,

My arm is worn out from using the crank

Let Cec have a try,said Cecil "not I -

 not for all the money they got in the bank"

So we put her ashore and took off the propellors,

With only one wrench, but that had to do

If there’s anything wrong mentioned here in this song,

I will draw all my wages and give it to you.

There’s Englands and Greens, their names I must mention ,

There’s Lee Lush and Claude, Wills and Ralph Gillingham

There’s Cec Dwyer and Stan, Bert Rideout and Sam,

Max Thomas and Vokey who works on the dam.

We have a fine cook, his name is Fred Rideout,

we hear no complaints from the men anymore.

I think he is able to put on the table

a lot better grub then we had here before.

We are now sacking Pine Pond, each man he is weary,

His patience is gone and the weather is bad

There’s a full thousand cord high and dry on the shore

When the sacking is over I know they’ll be glad.

The work now is over, the driving is finished

The ponds are all sacked and the brooks are reared down

While driving from Pine Pond, we made up this fine song,

It will go to the tune of the squid jigging ground.

Now if ever you get a chance to go driving

Just pick up your axes and hang up your saws,

and pick up your pick-poles go down on the rivers

Go back to cutting again in the fall.