The Erie Canal

We were forty miles from Albany forget it I never shall
What a terrible storm we had one night on the Eire Canal
Oh the Eire Canal was a-rising, the gin was a-getting low
And scarcely think we’ll get a drink till we get to Buffalo till we get to
Buffalo
Our captain he came on deck with a spy glass in his hand
And the fog it was so tunnel thick that he couldn’t spy the land
Oh the Eire Canal was a-rising, the gin was a-getting low
And scarcely think we’ll get a drink till we get to Buffalo till we get to
Buffalo
Our cook she was a grand old gal, she had a ragged dress
We hoisted her upon a pole as a signal of distress
Oh the Eire Canal was a-rising, the gin was a-getting low
And scarcely think we’ll get a drink till we get to Buffalo till we get to
Buffalo
The captain he got married and the cook she went to jail
And I’m the only son of a gun left to tell the tale
Oh the Eire Canal was a-rising, the gin was a-getting low
And scarcely think we’ll get a drink till we get to Buffalo till we get to
Buffalo