The Crawl

Well we’re good old boys
We come from the North Shore
Drinkers and carousers
The likes you’ve never seen
And this night, by God
We drank ‘til there was no more
From the Troller to the Raven
With all stops in between

It all began one afternoon on the shores of Ambleside
We were sittin’ there quite peacefully with the rising of the tide
When an idea it came to mind to usher in the fall
And we all agreed next Friday night we’d go out on the crawl

We planned to have a gay old time, the cash we did not spare
We left all the cars at home and paid the taxi fare
I got out to Horseshoe Bay a little after five
From a table in the corner I heard familiar voices rise

Spirits they ran high that night, old stories we did share
Of days when we were younger men and never had a care
The beer flowed like a river and we drank the keg near dry
So we drained down all our glasses and were thirsty by-and-by

Park Royal Hotel, The Rusty Gull, Square-Rigger and Queen’s Cross
We’d started out with eight good boys but half had gotten lost
For you’ll never keep the lads together when their eyes begin to rove
And there was just the three of us that made it to Deep Cove

We arrived outside the Raven just in time for the last call
Our final destination of this the first annual crawl
We dug deep into our pockets there was no money to be found
Nine miles home and for walking we are bound