Erie Canal - Unknown



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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