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Lyrics for Erie Canal by Unknown:
| | | Artist: | Unknown |
| | Album: | Unknown | | Track: | Erie Canal | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 178 | | | | Lyrics: | The Erie Canal
I am all the way from Buffalo,
Upon the good boat Danger
A long,
long trip we had, my boys,
I feel just like a stranger.
Petty fogs, artful
storms,
Forget them l never shall
I am every inch a sailor, boys,
On the Erie
Canal.
Chorus:
So haul in yer bowlines,
Stand by the saddle mule;
Low bridge, boys, dodge yer head,
Don't stand up like a fool.
For the Erie is
a-risin,
An' the whiskey's gettin' low;
l hardly think we'll get a drink
Till we get to Buffalo.
We left Albany harbor
About the break of day;
If rightly I
remember,
'Twas the second day of May.
We trusted to our driver
Although he was but
small,
Yet he knew all the windings
Of that raging Canawl.
Early every
morning
Ye can hear the flunkies call,
Come aft and git your lime juice,
Come aft,
one and all;
Come aft and git your lime juice,
And don't bring any back,
Before you
git to Syracuse
Ye's goin' to get the sack.
Three days out from Albany
A pirate
we did spy!
The black flag with the skull and bones
Was a-wavin' up on high;
We
signaled to the driver
To h'ist the flag o' truce,
When we found it was the Mary
Jane
Just out o' Syracuse.
Two days out from Syracuse
The vessel struck a
shoal,
And we like to all been foundered
On a chunk of Lackawanna coal.
We hollered
to the captain
On the towpath treadin' dirt
He jumped on board and stopped the
leak
With his old red flannel shirt.
The cook she was a kind soul
She had a
ragged dress.
We h'isted her upon a pole
As a signal of distress;
The winds began to
whistle
And the waves began to roll,
And we had to reef our royal
On the raging
Canawl.
When we got to Syracuse
The off mule he was dead,
The nigh mule got blind
staggers
And we cracked him on the head;
The captain he got married,
The cook she
went to jail,
And I was the only son of a bitch
That's left to tell the
tale.
Four long days we sailed the Hudson,
Sal and I and Hank,
We greased
ourselves with tallow fat
And slid out on a plank;
The crew are in the poorhouse,
The
captain he's in jail,
And I'm the sole survivin' man
That's left to tell the
tale.
From American Ballads and Folk Somgs, Lomax
@canal @sailor @work
filename[
ERICANL1
RG
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