| Well we’re good old boys, we come from the Northern Shore
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| Drinkers and carousers the likes you’ve never seen
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| And this night by God! |
| We drank ‘til there was no more
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| From the Troller to the Raven with all stops in between
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| But it all began one afternoon on the shores of Ambleside
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| We were sittin' there quite peacefully with the rising of the tide
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| When an idea it came to mind for to usher in the fall
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| So we all agreed next Friday night we’d go out on the crawl
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| We planned to have a gay old time, the cash we did not spare
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| So We left all the cars at home and paid the taxi fare
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| I got out to Horseshoe Bay a little after five
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| From a table in the corner I heard familiar voices rise
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| Spirits they ran high that night old stories we did share
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| Of the days when we were younger men and never had a care
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| The beer flowed like a river and we drank the keg near dry
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| So we drained down all our glasses and were thirsty bye and bye
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| Park Royal Hotel, The Rusty Gull, Square-Rigger and Queens Cross
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| We’d started out with eight good boys but half had gotten lost
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| For you’ll never keep the lads together when their eyes began to rove
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| So there was just the three of us that made it to Deep Cove
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| We arrived out at The Raven just in time for the last call
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| The final destination of this the first annual crawl
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| We dug deep into our pockets there was no money to be found
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| Nine miles home and for walking we are bound |