| 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
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| 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
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| 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 |