Abitiby Billy ' Apples to Apples

Abitibi Billy – Apples to Apples, Ray Scott One hundred acres of Tin hut dreams Thorold south rooted in orchard trees Shelter in the sticks, beyond Beaverdams Creek He was out of the house when he was just a teen Rollin’ headlights and lamps low on kerosene Robbin’ Rogersons’ of electricity Loyal, unto himself, to make his own island ‘saw the other side of n’ Irish fathers’ hand Worked at Abitibi Paper Mill ‘Till he took over, Duffin Construction Co. Billy started the Apple-works farm in Fonthill Buried his daddy where the canal still flows How far from the tree did the apple roll? Plowin’ in the soil of the Loyalist land Diggin’ ditches close where Daddy Duffin steamrolled Poolside wedding with the corn-roast band Rattling hayloft and horseshoes, rockin’ with Neon Rose How far along Beaverdams did Billy roam? Cherry Trees and Mercedes Smile n’ wave with the Grape n’ Wine Queen Sowin’ oats and planting seeds in time for the parade Earned each dollar every second, every day Now Billy found a lovely bride, they had a little daughter fixing guardrails n’ farming, they work for one another When kimmy’s baking pies and makin’ jams and sellin’ cider You bet where ever Sarah is, her daddy’s right beside her. Hand on hand on clutches and holding farm ladders Air cannon blast, all the circling crows scatter Now Billy’s still out there, seven days a week Driving pickups n' tractors and thinning those trees Sarah went to B.C and got a Green Earth Degree While branches are broken by foreign coyotes Farmers’ farming in his late seventies Diggin’ n’ plowin’ and plantin’ new seeds While the apple is rollin’ in a haymoon beam Sometimes in the evening,when Billy can’t sleep, He remembers way back to when he first left home When the October moon shone like a Gibson lake beacon Coulda’ been, County Antrim starlight streaming Deep in the gold n’ russet fields and hundred acre rows Kim is holding the same lamp and it’s still glowin’ She calls through a clearing, a Paisley Sadie wind yearnin’ The whispering trees move while the wick still burns In a wilderness hut or Hurricane rd. hayloft Or riches to rags when the fruit’s gone soft All along, all that matters, where the heart has home And where their dreams keep dreamin’ Never far from the orchard does the apple roam