It's Maine and it's Autumn. The birches have just begun turning. It's life and it's dying. The lobster men's boats come returning With the catch of the day in their holds. And the young boys cold
I would love to tour the southland. In a travelling minstrel show. Yes I'd love to tour the southland. In a traveling minstrel show Yes I'm dying to be a star and make them laugh. Sound just like
Babs and Clean Willie were in love they said. So in love the preacher's face turned red. Soon everybody knew the thing was dead. He shouts, she bites, they wrangle through the night yeah And she go