Look for the town with the longest name,


Where the highway winds, there’s a man of fame,

He’s called “Carbonear Ron”, with a heart so wide,


In a barn by the road, where his secrets reside.

If Canadian Tire can’t get it right,  ole Ron’s got the goods,

next thing you know he’s sells ya a bag of cut wood.


He fixes your troubles with a wink and a grin,


Chief Weasel of wisdom, where his tales begin.

With a bottle of Lambs rum, he’ll share a good drink,


While spinning his yarns, you’ll laugh and you’ll think.


From summers berries, sweet and divine,


To antiques of yore, each piece tells a line.

So when you’re on Highway 70’s bend,


Seek out “Carbonear Ron”, your soon new best friend.


In a world full of rush, he’s a pause in the day,


With stories and treasures, in his own special way.