Winter time and the frozen river

Sunday afternoon

They're playing hockey on the frozen river

Rosie...!

You skate as fast as you can 'til you hit the snowbank

(that's how you stop)

And you buy your sweater through the catalogue

Sailing on

Rosie...!

You'll have that scar on your chin forever you know

Looks bad now, but someday your girlfriend will say "Hey, what...?"

You might look out the window... Or not

Don't let those Sunday afternoons

Get away get away get away get away

Break away break away break away break away

This stick was signed by Jean Belliveau

so don't fuckin' tell me where to fuckin' go...

fuck fuck fuck fuck!

Sunday afternoon

Hey, your dog just stole the puck- ahh... not my dog

You get it - your turn

They rioted in the streets of Montreal when they benched Rocket Richard,

and that is true bona fide Canadian history, that's what really counts

That's what we're all about

Don't let those Sunday afternoons

Get away get away get away get away

Break away break away break away break away

You use your rubber boots for goal-posts

and you're so proud of that, cause they're your boots that they're usin'

that...

Oh... walkin' home

There's some people fishin' in those fishin' huts down the river

Smoking big cigars and telling stories of long ago

Rosie...!

The sun is setting on the frozen river

And the willow trees with their long fingers

hanging over the banks

and somewhere far away in a distant memory is a little boy sittin' on a log

with bare feet, bruised knees

fishin' fishin'

dreamin' of one day... one day

They're playin' hockey on the frozen river

The wind is dying down

Don't let those Sunday afternoons

Don't let those Sunday afternoons

Get away