| Let me sing you a song, boys, of fire and flame
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| Of a French ammo ship, the Mont-Blanc was her name
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| How the brave Nova Scotia was never the same
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| On the morning when Halifax burned
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| 'Twas in early December 1917
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| She was packed to the gills with Grade-A TNT
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| They were bound for the fighting in High Germany
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| When towards them the other ship turned
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| The Norwegian ship Imo, some fault in her gears
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| She struck Mont-Blanc's side like the mightiest of spears
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| And the benzol ignited, the captain’s worst fears
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| As the fire consumed bow to stern
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| The people gazed on from their safe distant rooms
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| Watched the soot and the smoke fill the sky with their plumes
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| Though within, the ship’s cargo would spell all their dooms
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| How were they to know to be concerned?
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| The crew rowed for shore lest they burn or they drown
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| They cried «Save your souls!» |
| as they ran through the town
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| But their warnings were nothing but strange foreign sounds
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| For the townsfolk, no French had they learned
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| One man, Patrick Coleman, in the railway’s employ
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| Sent word «Stop the trains, or they’ll all be destroyed!
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| This will be my last message, farewell to you boys»
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| For a true hero’s death he had earned
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| An explosion colossal when the munitions blew
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| Devastation and debris for miles, fire through
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| The Mont-Blanc was gone and the town with it, too
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| And the waters raged up in return
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| There were heroes and angels all fated to die
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| Over 2000 souls laid to rest by-and-by
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| We will always remember and lift a glass high
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| To the morning when Halifax burned |