winter time and the frozen river
Sunday afternoon
they're playing hockey on the river
he'll have that scar on his chin forever
someday his girlfriend will say "hey, where...?"
he might look out the window... or not
you skate as fast as you can
'til you hit the snowbank (that's how you stop)
and you got your sweater from the catalogue
you use your rubber boots for goal posts
ah...walkin' home

don't let those Sunday afternoons
get away get away get away get away
break away break away...

this stick was signed by Jean Belliveau
so don't fucking tell me where to fucking go...
oh Sunday afternoon
someone's dog just took the puck
he's buried it it's in the snowbank ....your turn
they rioted in the streets of Montreal
when they benched Rocket Richard it's true

don't let those Sunday afternoons
get away get away get away get away
break away break away break away break away

the sun is fading on the frozen river
the wind is dying down
someone else just got called for dinner
hmm...Sunday afternoon

Lyrics submitted by iconnu

Hockey song meanings
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  • 0
    General CommentImpressions here, since I know the imagery is laid out already, setting a scene for child-hood memories of playing hockey and reminding the listener of the weight and import of something binding and meaningful to a culture.
    I didn't grow up in a place remotely connected to Hockey, yet she did such a great job with this poetry that it makes me feel an empathic nostalgia for someone else's memories. She's struck a chord of recognition in the space between us and that is the hallmark of a really successful storyteller.
    The naive, youthful righteousness over the autographed stick; the puck-stealing dog; tying in the seriousness with which a whole population take their sport; their cultural centers, memories, and loves.
    I feel a heart-tug on the line speculating that a future girlfriend will be asking about a scar on his chin: a reminder of days of youth he carries with him and in having to explain it, re-visiting those places and people again and again.

    warmPhaseon February 02, 2008   Link
  • 0
    Memory"...Someone else just got called for dinner..." Ah, the neighborhood kickball games of my youth. Great song, this.
    PHRon February 05, 2013   Link

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