Gordon Bok – Frankie On The Sheepscot (Guitar)

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Frankie braids the purse-string, Cleon sets the tow

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Frankie goes to pick them over in the well

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He's never got a hat on, and the snow is all about him

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And it packs around his head like his own skin

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"Don't I hate this foolish river!", Frankie cries

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"Up and down her like a yo-yo on a string

   F                      Bb   C
Go out in the morning and tear up

Bb                 F
Mend all your afternoon

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And all this dirty river staving by"

                                   Bb
Ah, but boys, you should have seen him

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Wearing the snow as you would wear your hair

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Singing, "It's a hard life for a boy on the gut"

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He's got the words wrong, but he doesn't seem to care

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And the seagulls working easy out behind him

      Bb
Cleon slides the hatch back, and he shouts down

             F
"Boys, we're anchored"

        Bb                                 C
And you set your coffee down and you go on deck

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But the river's humping by so fast, the snow's so flying thick

                        Bb              F
You can't tell if she's moving or lying still

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"Don't I hate this foolish river!", Frankie cries

        Bb                         C
"Up and down her like a yo-yo on a string

   F                      Bb   C
Go out in the morning and tear up

Bb                 F
Mend all your afternoon

    Bb                            F     F7
And all this poor old river going by"

Bb                           C                F
Cleon winds the wheel and he cracks the power to her

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And she pokes her head around, but she doesn't turn

       Bb
And he takes her out of gear

                             F
While Frankie goes to try to haul back

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He says, "I guess we've hooked the dear old State of Maine"

                              Bb
Ah, but boys, you should have seen him

                                   F      C
Hour after hour, Cleon on that old wheel

        F                     Bb   C
There's nothing out there but hard times

Bb                  F
Time and the flying snow

    Bb                            F
And all that pretty river rolling by

                         Bb
Oh, but boys it makes me wonder

                                   F      C
Hour after hour, Cleon on that old wheel

        F                  Bb   C
There's nothing to see but hard times

Bb                  F
Time and the flying snow

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But Cleon watches day and night and day