Paddy’s on a Monday Night

It’s Paddy’s on a Monday night 
With everyone in good cheer. 
Jay and Cael turn down the lights, 
And are pourin’ up the beer. 
The first act tunes up his guitar, 
As the regulars find their place. 
When a call goes up throughout the bar, 
“Does anyone have a bass?” 

Yes this is Wolfville, 
In the heart of Acadie. 
The college town upon a hill, 
And nestled by the sea. 
Where good friends come and gather still 
To enjoy their company. 
Yes this is Wolfville, 
In the heart of Acadie. 

Mike leads us in a shanty song, 
And the crowd all know the words. 
A grownup festive sing-a-long 
With all yelling to be heard.
The place is packed beyond compare, 
And the schedule is full, 
As all glasses lift up in the air 
To the cry of “Sociable!” 

Yes this is Wolfville, 
In the heart of Acadie. 
The college town upon a hill, 
And nestled by the sea. 
Where good friends come and gather still 
To enjoy their company. 
Yes this is Wolfville, 
In the heart of Acadie. 

The time has come for this to end 
As the bar will soon be closed. 
Do I say farewell to all my friends, 
Or head on down to Joe’s? 
The lights are turning up to bright, 
So we’ll wander down the Main. 
We’ll all return next Monday night 
When we’ll do it all again. 

Yes this is Wolfville, 
In the heart of Acadie 
The college town upon a hill, 
And nestled by the sea. 
Where good friends come and gather still 
To enjoy their company. 
Yes this is Wolfville, 
In the heart of Acadie 

©℗ Norm Surette 2016, 2018

Ode To Wolfville

As the mist lifts o’er The Minas, 
And the tide rides in from The Bay, 
The freshness but serves to remind us 
Of the reasons why it’s here we stay. 

For yea, this is Wolfville, 
In the land of Acadie. 
A place where heart and soul bestill; 
A harbour of tranquility. 

Oh, what a fertile land 
Where crops and minds do grow. 
Home to hopes and ideals grand 
‘Tween Cornwallis and the Gaspereau. 

And when the carpet of yellow blooms 
Drapes o’er the heart of our campus green, 
The black-robed will new lives assume 
With golden memories of where they’ve been. 

Of when enticed by the midday sun 
To gently lift their gaze, 
And be awed by the sight of Blomidon, 
With its red cliffs all ablaze. 

Hear the wind rustle through the corn. 
Taste the bounty that our fields produce. 
Feel the chill of an October morn. 
See the beauty that does our minds seduce. 

Those Main Street shops fresh painted new, 
As from a picture postcard scene, 
Delight the fortunate travellers who 
Find their way to this place serene. 

But ‘tis the mien of the people fair 
Does give this town its grace. 
To one, to all, they give due care, 
And welcome with a kind embrace. 

They let you in, they take you in, 
A spirit from another time. 
Their warm hearts like those of kin, 
These new found friends – so sublime. 
  
Yes, this is Wolfville, 
In the heart of Acadie. 
A place I’ll call my home until 
I die, and they bury me. 

©℗ Norm Surette 2016, 2018