WE ARE CANADIAN, EH?

WE ARE CANADIAN, EH? We came across the Bering Strait twelve thousand years ago. We didn't linger long up there – 'twas 99 below! We wandered south while looking for a Timmy's 'round each bend, Just something in our DNA - we are Canadian! We are our Founding Fathers, crashed the party Charlottetown, We reached a pact – led to The Act – while the grog was going down! Upper, Lower and the space each side of Fundy Bay, Odd way to form a country but – we are Canadian, eh? Oysters on the prairie, cod tongues, fiddleheads and stew. Tortiere and poutine, wash them down with Molson Blue. Spruce gum, dulse and beaver tails, and sometimes pemmican, Our fine cuisine is in our genes – we are Canadian! We like our neighbours to the south but we keep them at arm's length, They like to brag about their flag, being humble not their strength. But we're so polite in manner, we thank our ATM's, Say “sorry!” when we're not at fault - we are Canadian! Here's to the mighty Arrow, ‘twas all a huge mistake, When Diefenbaker broke it up, threw the pieces in the lake. Uncle Samuel was annoyed that we were better than, We said sorry for the bother - we are Canadian! Oysters on the Prairie, cod tongues, fiddleheads and stew. Tortiere and poutine, wash them down with Molson Blue. Spruce gum, dulse and beaver tails, and sometimes pemmican, Our fine cuisine is in our genes – we are Canadian! In days of yore we played outdoors, oh we were hardy lads! With overshoes for goalposts, catalogues for goalie pads. We didn't need the boards back then, snow banks kept things at hand, A wooden puck, an alder stick – we are Canadian! Ice in drinks, on ponds, in rinks – we are the frozen North. No Stanley Cups for fifty years, come sometimes third or fourth! Rick walking down his alley, rants nine hundred nine and ten, Don's “psychodelic” jackets – we are Canadian! Oysters on the Prairie, cod tongues, fiddleheads and stew. Tortiere and poutine, wash them down with Molson Blue. Spruce gum, dulse and beaver tails, and sometimes pemmican, Our fine cuisine is in our genes – we are Canadian! We come from North of 60 and from south of 49, Point Pelee reaching for the Mason Dixon Line! And in between the middle fits in nicely end to end, We are Canada the country – and we are Canadian! We are our snowbirds in the winter and our maple syrup in spring. Stompin' Tom upon his board and our diva called Celine. We are Connor on the ice and we are Terry on the run, Chris Hatfield playing space guitar - we are Canadian! Oysters on the Prairie, cod tongues, fiddleheads and stew. Tortiere and poutine, wash them down with Molson Blue. Spruce gum, dulse and beaver tails, and sometimes pemmican, Our fine cuisine is in our genes – we are Canadian! We are Canada the country, only one more thing to say. We are Canada the country and we are Canadian....eh? Ellis Pringle Craig October, 2017.