Duncan

The couple in the next room

Is bound to win a prize

They’ve been going at it all night long

Well, I’ve been trying 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

Mama was the 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 Maritime

And headed down the turnpike for New England

Sweet New England

Holes in my confidence

Holes in the knees in my jeans

I was left without a penny in my pocket

Oo-we, I was about as destituted as a kid could be

I wished I wore a ring so I could hock it

I’d like to hock it

A young girl in a parking lot

Just preaching to a crowd

Singing sacred songs and reading from the Bible

Well, I told her I was lost

And she told me all about the Pentecost

I seen that girl as the road to my survival

Just later on that very same night

When she crept into my tent with a flashlight

And my 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, 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

• Artist:Shannon Whitworth
• Album:Bring It On Home