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
A wounded knee and a worn-torn dream So, children dear, go pack your things tomorrow morn we'll leave for liberty, towards charity and for mother dear we'll go
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 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
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
lie, lie, lie ,lie ,lie, lie, lie lie, lie, lie lie, lie lie, lie