Erie Canal - The Weavers

We were forty miles from Albany,\nForget it I never shall.\nWhat a terrible storm we had one night\nOn the E-ri-e Canal.\nOh, the E-ri-e was a-risin',\nAnd the gin was a-getting' low,\nAnd I scarcely think we’ll get a drink\nTill we get to Buffalo,\nTill we get to Buffalo.\nWell, the barge was full of barley,\nAnd the crew was full of rye;\nThe captain he looked down on me\nWith a dag-gone wicked eye.\nOh, the E-ri-e was a-risin',\nAnd the gin was a-getting' low,\nAnd I scarcely think we’ll get a drink\nTill we get to Buffalo,\nTill we get to Buffalo.\nWell, the captain he stood up on deck\nWith a spyglass in his hand,\nAnd the fog it was so doggone thick\nThat he couldn’t spy the land.\nOh, the E-ri-e was a-risin',\nAnd the gin was a-getting' low,\nAnd I scarcely think we’ll get a drink\nTill we get to Buffalo,\nTill we get to Buffalo.\nNow two days out from Syracuse\nThe vessel struck a shoal.\nWe’d like to all be foundered on\nA chunk of Lackawanna coal.\nOh, the E-ri-e was a-risin',\nAnd the gin was a-getting' low,\nAnd I scarcely think we’ll get a drink\nTill we get to Buffalo,\nTill we get to Buffalo.\nThe cook she was a grand old gal,\nShe wore a raggedy dress;\nWe heisted her upon the pole\nAs a signal of distress.\nOh, the E-ri-e was a-risin',\nAnd the gin was a-getting' low,\nAnd I scarcely think we’ll get a drink\nTill we get to Buffalo,\nTill we get to Buffalo.\nNow the captain he got married,\nThe cook she went to jail,\nAnd I’m the only son of a sea cook\nLeft to tell the tale.\nOh, the E-ri-e was a-risin',\nAnd the gin was a-getting' low,\nAnd I scarcely think we’ll get a drink\nTill we get to Buffalo,\nTill we get to Buffalo.