There was a time in this fair land when the railroad did not runThen the wild majestic mountains stood alone against the sunLong before the white man and long before the wheelWhen the green dark forest was too silent to be realBut time has no beginnings and history has no boundsAs to this verdant country they came from all aroundThey sailed upon her waterways and they walked the forest tallBuilt the mines, mills and the factories for the good of us allAnd when the young man's fancy was turning to the springThe railroad men grew restless for to hear the hammers ringTheir minds were overflowing with the visions of their daysAnd many a fortune lost and one and many a debt to payFor they looked in the future and what did they see?The sun-iron road running from the sea to the seaBringing the goods to the young grown landAll up from the seaboard sent into their handsLook away, said they, across this mighty landFrom the eastern shore to the western strandBring in the workers and bring up the railsWe gotta lay down the tracks and tear up the trailsOpen your heart, let the light flood flowGotta get on our way cause we're moving too slowBring in the workers and bring up the railsWe gotta lay down the tracks and tear up the trailsOpen your heart, let the light flood flowGotta get on our way cause we're moving too slowGet on our way cause we're moving too slowBehind the blue Rockies the sun is decliningThe stars they come stealing at the close of the dayAcross the wide prairie our loved ones lie sleepingBeyond the dark oceans in a place far awayWe are the navvies who work upon the railwaySwinging our hammers in the bright blazing sunLiving on stew and drinking bad whiskeyBending our backs till the long days are doneWe are the navvies who work upon the railwaySwinging our hammers in the bright blazing sunLaying down track and building the bridgesBending our backs till the railroad is doneSo over the mountains and over the plainsInto the muskeg and into the rainUp the St. Lawrence all the way to GaspéSwinging our hammers and drawing our painLaying them in and tying them downAway to the bunkhouse and into the townA dollar a day and a place for my headA drink to the living and a toast to the deadOh the song of the future has been sungAll the battles have been wonOn the mountain tops we standAll the world at our commandWe have opened up the soil with our teardropsAnd our toilFor there was a time in this fair landWhen the railroad did not runWhen the wild majestic mountains stood alone against the sunLong before the white man and long before the wheelWhen the green dark forest was too silent to be realWhen the green dark forest was too silent to be realAnd many other dead menToo silentTo be real