At the very north end of Vermont is the town Derby Line.
At the very north end of the town is a building quite fine.
It’s a library that has a hall with a stage that is grand.
Half the building is in the U.S., half on Canada’s land.

Long ago you could walk in the door, no one cared from which side.
You’d just amble down Church Street or get on a horse for the ride.
To cross over the national boundary line was a breeze,
No one asked for a passport or thought to say “Your papers, please.”

Refrain:
Now we have learned that we must be on guard ‘gainst each other.
Now we have learned that all people must stay on their sides.
But there’s a library standing astride the border,
Bringing together what nationalism divides.

Whether Stanstead or Derby Line was your address, it’s the same.
To the Haskell Free Library readers from two countries came.
Patrons sat in Vermont and watched shows on the stage in Quebec.
There were no guards to stand in the way and no visas to check.

In our time things have changed, and whenever Canadians want
To get books, they must cross at the border to enter Vermont.
To make sure no one goes to the side where they’re not s’posed to be,
It is watched by the Border Patrol and the R.C.M.P.

Refrain

If it’s smugglers, spies, or diseases, or terrorist thugs,
Or else shoppers out looking to buy some affordable drugs,
It will serve as a reason to make everybody afraid
And pretend that their barriers offer us much-needed aid.

Yet this maverick library stands, no one dares tear it down,
As if saying, “Who cares for your borders, we all are one town.”
As if wondering how this absurd separation did start,
As if laughing at checkpoints and guards that would keep us apart.

Refrain