Couple in the next room bound to win a prize,
They've been goin' at it all night long,
Well I'm tryin' 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,
Headed down the turnpike for New England, sweet New England.

Holes in my confidence,
Holes in the knees of my jeans,
I's left without a penny in my pocket,
Oo hoo hoo wee, I's about as destituted as a kid could be,
And I wished I wore a ring so I could hock it,
I'd like to hock it.

A young girl in a parking lot
Was preaching to a crowd,
Singin' sacred songs and reading from the Bible,
Well 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 the very same night
When I crept to her tent with a flashlight,
And my long years of innocence ended,
Well she took me to the woods, sayin'
"Here comes somethin' 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 playin' my guitar,
Lying underneath the stars,
Just thankin' the Lord for my fingers,
For my fingers.

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