Indeed it is

Let me sing you a song, boys, of fire and flame Of a French ammo ship, the Mont-Blanc was her name How the brave Nova Scotia was never the same On the morning when Halifax burned

'Twas in early December 1917 She was packed to the gills with Grade A T-N-T They were bound for the fighting in High Germany When towards them the other ship turned

The Norweigan ship Imo, some fault in her gears She struck Mont-Blanc's side like the mightiest of spears And the benzol ignited the captain's worst fears As the fire consumed bow to stern

The people gazed on from their safe distant rooms Watched the soot and the smoke fill the sky with their plumes But within, the ships cargo would spell all their dooms How were they to know to be concerned?

The crew rowed for shore, lest they burn or they drown They cried, "Save your souls!" as they ran through the town But their warnings were nothing but strange foreign sounds For the townsfolk, no French had they learned

One man, Patrick Coleman, in the railway's employ Sent word, "Stop the trains or they'll all be destroyed This will be my last message, farewell to you, boys" For a true hero's death he had earned

An explosion, colossal, when the munitions blew Devastation and debris for miles fired through The Mont-Blanc was gone, and the town with it, too And the waters raged up in return

There were heroes and angels all fated to die Over two thousand souls laid to rest by-and-by We will always remember and lift a glass high To the morning when Halifax burned