Gowanus Canal

Away down town where the atmosphere is hazy,
 From the smoke of all the factories ascending to the sky,
 The smells they are so horrid, it would almost set you crazy,
 But I'm told that in the neighbourhood the people seldom die.
 Way up on the slope all the people are complaining,
 From the foul-scented odours all their health is quickly waning,
 And the smoke from the soft-coal, their linen it is staining,
 When the wind blows that way from Gowanus Canal.
 When the wind blows East, when the wind blows West,
 Or when it's from the North or South you never get a rest.
 In Summer or in Winter, in the Spring or in the Fall,
 You breathe the same old odors from Gowanus Canal.
 In fabled "Darby's Patch," oh that muddy stream, it rises
 And down to sweet Gowanus Bay it rushes with a roar
 Where barges and canal boats and schooners of all sizes
 Are unloaded by Tom Hanley, the jolly stevedore
 The girls you find down there are all so winsome and so pretty
 And the boys they are so healthy; if not handsome, then they're witty
 And all of you know Farrell–"he'll be Mayor of Slob City"–
 He's thriving on the odors of Gowanus Canal
 When the wind blows east, when the wind blows west
 Or when it's from the north or south, you never get a rest
 In summer or in winter, in the spring or in the fall
 You breathe the same old odors from Gowanus Canal
 You breathe the same old odors from Gowanus Canal!
 End