Journal - Canoe

It’s not like I’m opposed to it

Just leaving has its price

Your mother’s dying wish to me

Was raise these children right

So, Deborah, and Joshua, and Abigail

We’ll go

A wounded knee and a worn-torn dream

Have often challenged me

So, children dear, go pack your things

Tomorrow morn we’ll leave

For liberty, towards charity

And for mother dear we’ll go

Children, come follow me

We’ll run across this pier

Secretly we’ll hide and we’ll stowaway in here

It’s time to leave everything we’ve ever loved before

But if the bobby comes aboard, we may never see New York

The crimson shade of the evening hill

Protect us, happy few

So close your eyes and dream sweet dreams

We’ll land in three short weeks

Now Abigail, please dry your eyes or your fever will rise

Don’t cry, don’t cry!

Children, come follow me, we’ll toss her overboard

Abigal is home in the heavens with the Lord

We’re eight days from happiness

And eight days isn’t long

Gather round the latern, we’ll sing a happy song

We’ll sing

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Lie, lie, lie lie, lie lie, lie