He was born in Big Beaver by the borderline He started playing hockey by the time he was nine His dad took the hose and froze the back yard And Little Buddy dreamed he was Rocket Richard He grew up big and he grew up tough He saw himself scoring for the Wings or Canucks But he wasn't that good with a puck
Buddy's real talent was beating people up His heart wasn't in it but the crowd ate it up Through pee-wee's and juniors, midgets and mites He must have racked up more than six hundred fights A scout from the flames came down from Saskatoon Said, "There's always room on our team for a goon Son, we've always got room for a goon"
There were Swedes to the left of him Russians to the right A Czech at the blue line looking for a fight Brains over brawn-that might work for you But what's a Canadian farm boy to do What else can a farm boy from Canada to do But what's a Canadian farm boy to do What else can a farm boy from Canada to do
Hit somebody! was what the crowd roared When Buddy the goon came over the boards "Coach," he'd say, "I wanna score goals" The coach said, "Buddy, remember your role The fast guys get paid, they shoot, they score Protect them, Buddy, that's what you're here for
Protection is what you're here for Protection-it's the stars that score Protection-kick somebody's ass Protection-don't put the biscuit in the basket just Hit some, Buddy! it rang in his ears Blood on the ice ran down through the years The king of the goons with a box for a throne A thousand stitches and broken bones He never lost a fight on his icy patrol But deep inside, Buddy only dreamed of a goal He just wanted one damn goal
There were Swedes at the the blue line Finns at the red A Russian with a stick heading straight for his head Brains over brawn-that might work for you But what's a Canadian farm boy to do What else can a farm boy from Canada to do But what's a Canadian farm boy to do What else can a farm boy from Canada to do
In his final season, on his final night Buddy and a Finn goon were pegged for a fight Thirty seconds left, the puck took a roll And suddenly Buddy had a shot on goal
The goalie committed, Buddy picked his spot Twenty years of waiting went into that shot The fans jumped up, the Finn jumped too And coldcocked Buddy on his follow through The big man crumbled but he felt all right 'Cause the last thing he saw was the flashing red light He saw that heavenly light
There were Swedes to the left of him Russians to the right A Czech at the blue line looking for a fight Take care of your teeth-that might work for you But what's a Canadian farm boy to do What else can a farm boy from Canada to do But what's a Canadian farm boy to do What else can a farm boy from Canada to do