Oh my name is Hector Jellie, and this is my complaint
My twin brother is an Islander, but holy smoke I ain't
I was born upon the "Abegwait", which came as quite a shock
But some idiot cut my umbilical chord before the ferry docked!
Well my younger brother, "Borden", he loves to rub it in
That he's the native Islander, and I'm his "distant twin"
I was always "Tonto", he was always "The Lone Ranger"
He got all the cuddly names, and people called me "Stranger"
So is it by default, or is it by injection?
Is it come by honestly, or is it an infection?
Someone tell me please before they put me in the earth,
How in the name o' God do I become an Islander?
Well I loved a girl from Carleton, and she said she'd be my wife
A third generation Islander, I'd know her all me life
But she called it off the night before, and phoned me up to say
"I could never tell a child of mine his daddy's 'from away'!"
In my long and lonely later years my prospects looked so cruddy
That I went to seek me roots at The Institute of Island Studies,
The experts said that when I die, I can lie in the family plot
But even genetically qualified, an "Islander" I'm not
At age 95 I finally died, and I went to the Pearly Gates
Surely to Heaven, by now I thought I'd found my rightful place
But St. Peter told me "Hector, we'd love to let you stay,
Heaven's full of Islanders, but you're still 'from away'!"
Then the devil saw me coming, and he licked his lips with glee
Contemplating all the tortures he'd inflict eternally
But God yelled down from Heaven, "Be gentle Lucifer,
He's been through Hell already trying to be an 'Islander'!"