Where the James River Flows

It's a long way from Lithuania, To where the James River flows, Far from Germany and Russia, Where the winds of war began to blow. They survived the curse of cholera, Papal excommunication, The promised land in Alberta, Worth the risk of emigration. You can sail for two months or more, But then you're only half way done, When they drop anchor into Halifax harbour, And you step out on Pier 21. And when the clerk can't write Lukosius, But you've got to catch a train, And his spelling's so atrocious, Lucas becomes your name. It's a long way from Lithuania To a couple hundred steers. All it takes is four or five decades, And a river of blood, sweat, and tears. River He didn't start with much at all, Except a ton of common sense, The strongest hands you'd ever saw, And the courage to take a chance. He was scraping and scrapping, For everything he earned. It was just him against the world, Until he married the prettiest girl. She worked as hard as most any man, And a whole lot more than some. All while raising Joe and Jan, Under the hot western sun. And if you find yourself unable, On hard times without a home, Set yourself at Dorothy's table, And you'll never eat alone. It's a long way from Lithuania To a couple hundred steers. All it takes is four or five decades And a river of blood, sweat, and tears. River If you've ever led a team of horses, Or held the plow dig into the earth, Cleared a couple quarter sections, Then you know what their work was worth. If you've pulled a calf with block and tackle, Pushed a prolapse for all you can, If your horse stepped on your ankle, You might understand this ranching man. And just because there's a setting sun, Doesn't mean you get to stop, 'Cause there's hours before you're done, And you're so tired you're gonna drop. It's a long way from Lithuania To a couple hundred steers. All it takes is four or five decades And a river of blood, sweat, and tears. River Does the still still stand, hidden away, Where only the moon can shine? 'Cuz a man can't work, and never play, You could even brew birch bark wine. When your word is all you've got, And a handshake means it's done, You get a feel for the West, And how all Albert's deals were done. Now the herd's been sold, and most the land, But all their friends keep stopping by. Old stories told, a couple true, Over another drink of rye. And each cut from barb wire bled your hands, All calloused from posts you'd pound. Back when you thought you were shaping land, It was the other way around. It turns out it was the other way around. The James River gives you nothing, That's just how life along there goes. But hard work'll get you everything, Down where the James River flows. Hard work'll get you everything, Where the James River flows. River River River River