“We’re a-slippin’ through the water in our leaky old canoe.
My buddy’s been dead near an hour, and I’m a dyin’ too.
The mosquitoes are a-bittin’ at my bleedin’, achin’ head.
We’re a travellin’ to the grave-yard, cause soon we’ll both be dead.

The canoe’s a-leakin’ slowly but we ain’t got far to go.
The pine trees are a-creakin’ and we’re goin’ oh, so slow.
My heads a-gettin’ dizzy and I am an awful sight,
But I gotta get my buddy there and bury him tonight.

I’ll dig a grave, and put him in, and fill it up with dirt.
And then I’ll say a little prayer, e’en though my head does hurt.
I’ll prob’ly shed a few wet tears; I ain’t afraid to cry.
And then I’ll dig another grave and crawl in there to die.

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