.On the shore of the lake,
In the great upstate of New York,
Came the call of a loon.
Cold, cold, o'er a plume of smoke.
He spoke of the future.
He sang, "You, my friend, are alone, alone."
We live with the cockroach
And we split our cords of oak
And keep this wood stove b.
Have you been looking for lyrics of your favorite song, too long? Lyrics has got them all listed out for you by your favorite songwriters, artists neatly arranged by albums you love. Simply,Choose an album, artist or lyricist and start discovering lyrics of your favorite songs.
Allow To View All Exclusive Content & Notifications 🔔