It comes at last a time
When you simply hear
The grief of artists, politicians
You hoist your black flag.
A story of musical stuff
A river of words
The tormenting pleasure of the maybe
Our icon in this wide Canadian setting
The notion of home.
The Tragically Hip
Decades of history in a confusing landscape
Bridging, scarring truths then and now.
If we feel confusion
It’s because their territory becomes ours.
The simplicity of craving in our taste
The encounter of accorded chords
How they feel tender in our beings.
They were ahead by a century
A new sound
An undeniable gather
In a new era.
We are today richer
Of minded nature
Thank you Tragically Hip!