They've been going at it all night long Well, I'm trying to get some sleep But these motel walls are cheap Lincoln Duncan is my name and here's my song Here's my song My father was a fisherman My mama was a fisherman's friend And I was born in the boredom and a chowder So when I reached my prime I left my home in the maritimes Headed down the turnpike for New England Sweet New England
Holes in my confidence Holes in the knees of my jeans I was left without a penny in my pocket Ooo-Weee I was about destitute as a kid could be And I wished I wore a ring so I could hock it I'd like to hock it A young girl in a parking lot Was preaching to a crowd Singing sacred songs and reading from the Bible Well, I told her I was lost And she told me all about the Pentecost And I seen that girl as the road to my survival I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know Just later on the very same night When I crept to her tent with a flashlight And my long years of innocenece ended Well, she took me to the woods Saying here comes something and it feels so good And just like a dog I was befriended I was befriended Oh, oh, what a night, oh what a garden of delight Even now that sweet memory lingers I was playing my guitar Lying underneath the stars Just thanking the Lord for my fingers For my fingers I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know
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