We were forty miles from Albany
Forget it, I never shall
What a terrible storm we had one night
On the Erie Canal

Chorus:
Oh, the Erie was rising
And gin was getting low
And I scarcely think we'll get a drink
Till we get to Buffalo

The winds began to whistle
And the waves began to roll
And we had to reel our royals
On the raging canal

We were loaded down with barley
We were chuck up full of rye
And the captain he looked at me
With his goldurn wicked eye

Two miles out from Syracuse
The vessel struck a shoal
And we like to all been foundered
On a chunk o' Lackawanna coal

We hollered to the captain
On the towpath, treading dirt
He jumped on board and stopped the leak
With his old red flannel shirt

When we get to Syracuse
The off mule he was dead
The nigh mule got blind staggers
And we cracked him on the head

The cook she was a grand old gal
She wore a flowered dress
We hoisted her upon the pole
As a signal of distress

The captain, he got married
The cook, she went to jail
And I'm the only son-of-a-gun
That's left to tell the tale