We were forty miles from Albany, forget it I never shall,
What a terrible storm we had one night on the E-ri-e canal!

CH
Oh the E-ri-e was a-rising,
And the gin was a-getting low,
And I hardly think we'll get a drink till we get to Buffalo-o-o
Till we get to Buffalo.

The Captain he stood up on deck with his spy glass in his hand,
And the fog it was so 'tarnal thick that he couldn't spy the land!

CH

The cook she was a grand old gal, she wore a ragged dress,
We hoisted her up on a pole as a signal of distress

CH

Well the captain he got married, and the cook she went to jail,
And I'm the only son of a gun who lived to tell the tale!

CH

Search Burl Ives and you will probably find the tune, I used to sing it in an earlier life!

FC