DUNCAN

The couple in the next room are bound to win a prize,
They've been going at it all night long.
Well I've tried 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 the chowder.
So when I reached my prime,
I left my home in the Maritimes.
And 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.
Oo-ee, I was about as destituted as any kid could be,
And I wished I wore a ring
So I could hock-it.
I'd like to hock-it.

The young girl in the parking lot, was preaching to a crowd.
Singing sacred songs and reading from The Bible.
Oh, 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.

Just later on that first same night,
When I crept to her tent with a flashlight.
And the long years of innocence 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.