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.
cho: O the E-ri-e was a-rising
And the gin was a-getting low.
And I scarcely think we’ll get a drink
Till we get to Buff-a-lo-o-o
Till we get to Buffalo.
We were loaded down with barley
We were chock-full up on rye.
The captain he looked down at me
With his gol-durned wicked eye.
Two days out from Syracuse
The vessel struck a shoal;
We like to all be foundered
On a chunk o’ Lackawanna coal.
We hollered to the captain
On the towpath, treadin’ dirt
He jumped on board and stopped the leak
With his old red flannel shirt.
The cook she was a grand old gal
Stood six foot in her socks.
Had a foot just like an elephant
And her breath would open locks.
The wind begins to whistle
The waves begin to roll
We had to reef our royals
On that ragin’ canal.
The cook came to our rescue
She had a ragged dress;
We h’isted her upon the pole
As a signal of distress.
When we got to Syracuse
Off-mule, he was dead;
The nigh mule got blind staggers
We cracked him on the head.
The cook is in the Police Gazette
The captain went to jail;
And I’m the only son-of-a-gub
That’s left to tell the tale.
We sang Erie Canal in my elementary school too, Jefferson County Ky., circa the early '70s.
Also Streets of Laredo, Sweet Betsy from Pike, Cockles and Mussels, Marching to Pretoria (I had no idea about that one until I was grown), Way Down Yonder in the Paw Paw Patch and other folk favs.
Paw paw trees grow wild around Ky. My Mom used to pick the fruit as a child. They’re also called custard apples.. Agricultural departments are trying to encourage the cultivation of paw paws in the state. They’re a fairly healthful addition to the diet.
Wow, I had totally suppressed that one, but it’s in there. I suppose it was a southern mind control type of thing. At a later age we were required to learn the words to Freebird and Sweet Home Alabama, but not for school.
[sub]last year in Bangkok I “corrected” the lyrics a band used for Sweet Home Alabama. The ones they’d come up with were pretty funny, I wish I could remember them, about 30% correct.[/sub]
I was born and raised in Akron Ohio, and yes, I we sang that song in school. In fact, in the 4th or 5th grade, we went on a field trip to the Erie Canal. We even got to ride on the boat that was towed by the mule.
I remember I got in trouble, because on a dare, I threw a golf ball I had brought, into the water. The teacher saw me and banished me to the middle of the boat where she could keep an eye on me.
Man, I havent thought of that song in a long time!
I grew up in Kalamazoo, MI and Toledo, OH and we sang the Erie Canal almost every week of elementary school. When my wife and I took a trip with our children to Niagara Falls, we (she grew up in Cleveland, OH) sang this song to them. They had never heard the song before.
Also, I remember my mother teaching my sister and I the Paw Paw patch song. She knew it because her cousins, who lived in Southwestern Michigan actually had a Paw Paw Patch. I was fortunate enough to get to eat a few myself. I always thought that they were vaguely like bananas that were not quite over ripe. Very soft and sweet [Homer voice] Ummm… Paw paws…[/Homer voice].
Oh I remember that infernal song all too well. Middletown, Oh lays claim to the fact that an official groundbreaking ceremony for the canal was held right here.
It does not matter that the first actual spadeful of dirt was turned about 3 weeks prior to the “groundbreaking” ceremony. Oh no, we got monuments, plaques, Canal museums, Canal historians…
So I sign off from MIDDLETOWN, OHIO—THE BIRTHPLACE OF THE MIAMI-ERIE CANAL!!!
does anyone remember that saturday night live skit where there is a proctologist (played by i forget who) who mispronounced the term “anal canal” so that the word ‘canal’ rhymed with the word ‘anal’?
anyway. here is a song i wrote called “The Anal Canal,” sung to the tune of “The Erie Canal.” dont nobody steal it.
I’ve got a patient and his name is Al,
And he’s got a problem with his anal canal.
He’s a real nice guy but he can’t shit down,
Cause he’s got a problem where it’s warm and brown.
I slip on a glove and slide my finger on in,
And I feel a big lump where the sphincter begin.
Its as big as a lemon and it sure ain’t benign -
Old Al has a tumor where the sun don’t shine.
(chorus)
Tumor! Everybody frown,
Tumor! It’s down in the brown!
Al is growing polyps
Where it ain’t normal -
The man’s got a problem with his anal canal.
So I give Al two shots - one morphine, one Jack,
And he lies on his stomach while I stake out his back.
With a flash of my scalpel and a gasp from old Al
I’ve sliced the lump clean from his anal canal.
“Now Al,” I counsel, “You keep that ass cool.
Ice it every two hours; expect blood in your stool.
But all things considered,” I smile at Al,
“It’s better than lumps in your anal canal.”
Bronxite who learned it in the Seventies weighing in here.
I remember the last verse as:
“Git up there, mule, here comes a lock!
We’ll make Rome 'round six o’clock.
And you’ll always know your neighbor
And you’ll always know your pal
If you’ve ever navigated on the Erie Canal.”
FWIW. I love that cluster of classically named towns up there…Rome, Utica, Syracuse, Ithaca, etc. Most of them are in pretty sorry shape these days, unfortunately.