| Song | Mist |
| Artist | Protest the Hero |
| Album | Volition |
| About a gunshot away there’s a place that I long to be—tippin’ bottles with me | |
| old cock. When the shit’s all said and sorted, I plan to settle down and stay—one | |
| middle finger to the landlocked. From the first time boatin’ o’r there’s not too much | |
| I can recall. I kissed a plastic cod and drank rum till I was friggered. I decided then | |
| and there that I’d return, even if I had to crawl. Something outside was broken and | |
| something inside me, triggered. It’s a long ride home, but it’s always my destination. | |
| It’s a long ride home. If the sun bursts apart at the end of the world, I don’t think | |
| I will give a damn as long as I’m surrounded by friends and pints in goddamned | |
| Newfoundland. So here’s to Newfoundland. I breathed a sigh of relief the next time | |
| steppin’ off the plane. It’d been a long, hard, vapid winter. Johnny and the boys | |
| were waiting there ready to explain, they weren’t there to drive us, just a welcome | |
| back to the Island. So we taxied to the venue to prepare for the night to sweep. | |
| Slept in the back room until the India showed up. When we finally took the stage, | |
| it shifted beneath our feet. We stood on the shoulders of proud Newfoundlanders. | |
| And I think it bears repeating that no one buckled under. We all got bit by the cod | |
| that we all kissed. It left an infection in our lips and a longing in the mist. You’re | |
| as deep as the grave, and you’re marching to the heartbeat of the land. Yes, I be a | |
| Newfoundlander B’y. Not by birth, but in m y heart. Yes, I be a Newfoundlander B’y. |
| About a gunshot away there' s a place that I long to be tippin' bottles with me | |
| old cock. When the shit' s all said and sorted, I plan to settle down and stay one | |
| middle finger to the landlocked. From the first time boatin' o' r there' s not too much | |
| I can recall. I kissed a plastic cod and drank rum till I was friggered. I decided then | |
| and there that I' d return, even if I had to crawl. Something outside was broken and | |
| something inside me, triggered. It' s a long ride home, but it' s always my destination. | |
| It' s a long ride home. If the sun bursts apart at the end of the world, I don' t think | |
| I will give a damn as long as I' m surrounded by friends and pints in goddamned | |
| Newfoundland. So here' s to Newfoundland. I breathed a sigh of relief the next time | |
| steppin' off the plane. It' d been a long, hard, vapid winter. Johnny and the boys | |
| were waiting there ready to explain, they weren' t there to drive us, just a welcome | |
| back to the Island. So we taxied to the venue to prepare for the night to sweep. | |
| Slept in the back room until the India showed up. When we finally took the stage, | |
| it shifted beneath our feet. We stood on the shoulders of proud Newfoundlanders. | |
| And I think it bears repeating that no one buckled under. We all got bit by the cod | |
| that we all kissed. It left an infection in our lips and a longing in the mist. You' re | |
| as deep as the grave, and you' re marching to the heartbeat of the land. Yes, I be a | |
| Newfoundlander B' y. Not by birth, but in m y heart. Yes, I be a Newfoundlander B' y. |