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(hummmm) Down where the river runs backward in the cold,
On Fallsview Avenue where the white water roars,
Walter and Joshua
are sweepin' up the floors.
The Black River blades
are spinning true and bright,
Turning old spruce timber
under Saint John light.
Winslow tells the story of the sawdust and the sweat,
A piece of history we ain't quite finished yet.
Oh, the Reversing Falls are turning in the bay,
We shape the northern pine at the end of the day.
With hands made of iron and hearts of solid oak,
Building up a legacy in every breath of smoke.
Black River Woodworking, standing through the strain,
Singing with the timber in the Maritime rain.
Walter guides the planer,
Joshua checks the grain,
Born of New Brunswick,
familiar with the pain.
A YouTube memory
captured frame by frame,
For the masters of the craft,
we call 'em by their name.
The rapids foam outside,
but the shop is dry and warm,
Sheltered by the rafters
from the coming winter storm.
Where the rapids roll,
and the big saws hum...
Black River keeps on rolling
till the work is done. (hummmm) (ahhhh)