Written by: Neil Young
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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 on the sky The pride of the captain's eye As he guides 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

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