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Unusual break-up gesture.
Rowboat © 2014 Ken Kahn
Trouble arise, arise, that woman is blood under my skin.
I want to let go, let go, but I don't know how to begin.
Mama said son, oh son, you never was one to listen to me,
But you gotta be strong, be strong, all on your own to be free.
Now the river is, river is wide, wide, yeah and it's deep and cold.
Well the river runs, river runs high, calling my soul.
And the river is, river is heeding the call of the distant tide.
Now I go to the river, down to the river when troubles arise.
Now I carry myself, myself down to the shore, with a big black bag.
In my old rowboat, rowboat, I'm pushing off of the sand.
And the water is fast, so fast, I'm out in the current, breaking free,
As I empty that bag of her love letters and send them down to the sea.
Now the river is deep and wide, wide, yeah, and the bottom's cold.
Can't forgive her no more, no more, so I will free my soul
Now her letters they travel one by one down to the tide and the foam
And the river it cries that sooner or later, we all go home.