| Couple in the next room bound to win a prize
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| They’ve been going at it all night long
|
| Well, I’m trying to get some sleep
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| But these motel walls are cheap
|
| Lincoln Duncan is my name, and here’s my song
|
| Here’s my song
|
| My father was a fisherman
|
| My mama was the fisherman’s friend
|
| And I was born in the boredom and the chowder
|
| So when I reached my prime, I left my home in the Maritimes
|
| Headed down the turnpike for New England
|
| Sweet New England
|
| Holes in my confidence
|
| Holes in the knees of my jeans
|
| I was left without a penny in my pocket
|
| Ooh-oowee, I was about destituted as a kid could be
|
| And I wished I wore a ring so I could hock it
|
| I’d like to hock it
|
| A young girl in a parking lot was preaching to a crowd
|
| Singing sacred songs and reading from the Bible
|
| Well, I told her I was lost
|
| And she told me all about the Pentecost
|
| And I seen that girl as the road to my survival
|
| I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know
|
| Just later on the very same night
|
| When I crept to her tent with a flashlight
|
| And my long years of innocence ended
|
| Well, she took me to the woods
|
| Saying here comes something and it feels so good
|
| And just like a dog, I was befriended
|
| I was befriended
|
| Oh, oh, what a night
|
| Oh what a garden of delight
|
| Even now that sweet memory lingers
|
| I was playing my guitar lying underneath the stars
|
| Just thanking the Lord for my fingers
|
| For my fingers
|
| I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know |