The Old Sledding Hill
A love was born in Newfoundland
For a wonderful winter thrill.
As a brothers and sisters band
We would trek to our favorite hill.
With toboggan in tow behind
And a forward lean in the wind,
We braved the elements unkind
To launch freezing runs for the win!
Our thrill was called Suicide Hill
Where the locals who dared would go.
With the chance of boredom nil
We lined up and flew through the snow.
Our cheeks red as roses in bloom
And hands frozen curled 'round the rope
Time and again, we'd all make room
And board the toboggan once more.
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