 It's early up Ontario farm, chicken crow for day. I wish I grew Annapolis apples up above Fundy's day. Oh, it seems so far away. On the ridge above Acadia's town, through the valley down below. The evening shadow falls upon the families listening to the radio. And watching the apples grow. Down on the farm back among the family, away from Ontario. Hear the ladies singing to their men, dancing in heel and toe. And watching the apples grow.