Journal Letra

was raise these children right
So, Deborah, and Joshua, and Abigail
We'll go

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

Children, come follow me
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
protect us, happy few
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
Don't cry, don't cry!

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

We'll sing
lie, lie, lie ,lie ,lie, lie, lie
lie, lie, lie lie, lie lie, lie
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