Go West, Young Man, Go West

Leaving Cape Breton Island for employment is something that many working class families have faced in the past and this tradition continues at present. “Going out west,” as this song demonstrates, was a choice that workers reluctantly made in order to survive the hard times in 1925.

LYRICS

The winter winds are bleak and drear,
Methinks I better move from here;
Fly, fly, Old Timer, fly away
Before that dark December day
When gloom descends upon the town
And when the mines are all shut down,
When idle workers walk the street—
Up, up, Old Timer, work your feet.
Hark ye the hungry people’s cries,
The birds have left (and birds are wise)
Were naught but wisdom now methinks
To leave the ship before she sinks.

What comes? This shadow o’er my mind
For those I love and leave behind,
But some there are I cannot like—
I hopes you perish, Ike Mclke.*
I don’t forget our little clash,
I hopes the “pluck-me”** stops your hash;
Beware the evil eye of me—
I’ll have revenge, you wait and see.

I know not whether north or south
Or east or west I’ll roam,
But this I know, the night is dark
And I am far from home;
And creditors, dear creditors,
Don’t think I mean you wrong,
If you wake up some morning
And find that I am gone.
Yes, I know that you are short
Just the same as I,
But I’ll pay you, yes, I’ll pay you
In the sweet by and by.

By STEVEN FIFIELD

About Steven Fifield

Steven Fifield comes from Sydney. He writes songs, he sings them, he plays the guitar.  
He’s an everyman poet whose intensity and honesty when playing is always present. Steve has performed throughout the maritimes and will venture farther. He has a cat named Arthur. Sometimes he drinks tea, sometimes he drinks coffee.

Resources

Dawn Fraser introduces this poem with the following statement: “I was never very proud, indeed I was somewhat ashamed, of the following rhyme which was written while I was in flight from the starving sections of the extreme eastern part of industrial Canada in the year 1925. In justice to myself I might state, however, that this farewell was written under certain handicaps while I had to keep one jump ahead of the conductor on the night train out of Sydney. However, when that official finally caught up with me, he proved to be a good fellow who knew me. He shared the contents of his lunch can with me and let me ride free to the end of his run.” 1 [1] Fraser. Echoes From Labour’s War (Toronto: New Hogtown Press, 1978), p. 82.References Fraser, Dawn. (1978). Echoes From Labour’s War. Toronto: New Hogtown Press.