Erie Canal - Burl Ives

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