The Gales of 1838

They say, 'She walks in the water;
Her whistles silence the day
She helps the smugglers turn their crimes into American dimes
Into Canadian dollars, opium, and haze

At the foot of Woodward
There's a condition or two to shade the custom's review:
All the young women overdressed in their long-coats
Allow us to drink on their wine
Our eyes turn to glass and shine on blind

So I've had wine and wine and wine
And more wine tonight
And tonight I saw their world
And I am so far from it now
I'm collapsing like the lighthouse in the gales of 1838

She takes musicians to Bois Blanc
She takes the dancers there too
And at the end of the long nights, she takes them back by lamplight
But until then she stays clear out of view

Before we dock at Richmond
There's a hidden tax of merit and all the boaters inherit
One dollar for every Lincoln brought in
We exchange them their Loonies and unwind
Our eyes turn to glass and shine on blind