Tom Finch turned to the waitress and said, "Bring me another Alpine
I'll have one more before I go to tell Marie the news
Well boys, we're for it this time. The plant is closed for good
Regan broke his promise, and we're through
We're working men with no work left to do

I always thought I'd have a boat, just like my dad before me
You don't get rich, but with the boats you always could make do
But the boats gave way to trawlers, and packing turned to meal
Now that's all gone, and we're all for the dole
And the thought of that puts irons in my soul."

Tom Finch stood up and said good-bye with handshakes all around
Faces he'd grown up among, now with their eyes cast down
Slow foot along familiar road to the hills above the harbour
With a passing thought, "Now all this is through
And I wonder how Marie will take the news."

The house had been so much of her, though it had hardly been a year
She's done his father's house so proud, and held it all so dear
But there was hot tea on the table when Tom came through the door
And before he spoke, she smiled and said, "I know
The plant is gone. Now how soon do we go?"

"We won't take a cent. They can stuff all their money. We've put a little by
And thank God we've got no kids as yet, or I think I'd want to die
We Finches have been in this part of the world for near 200 years
But I guess it's seen the last of us. Come on Marie, we're going to Toronto."