On the lake,
  the deep forbidden lake,
  The old boats go gliding by,
  And the leaves
  are falling from the trees
  And landing on the logs and I
  See the turtles
  heading for the bog
  And falling off the log.
  They make the water splash,
  And feeling no backlash,
  They climb the happy banks.
    On the boats,
  the old and creaky boats,
  The shoreline goes gliding by,
  And the wind,
  there was a dying breeze,
  Is making the banners fly.
  See the colors,
  floating in the sky,
  The pride of the captain's eye,
  As he glides
  His slender craft inside
  And opens up the door.
    On the coast,
  the long and tempting coast,
  The cards on the table lie,
  And a speech,
  so eloquent in reach,
  Was made by a passerby,
  Passing by the way between
  Here and left behind.
  And it ripples through the crowds
  Who run and cast their doubts
  In the deep forbidden lake.
    Yes, it echoes through the crowds
  Who run and cast their doubts
  In the deep forbidden lake.