July, July!

There is a road that meets the road that goes to my house
 And how it green grows there
 And we've got special boots to beat the path to my house
 And it's careful, and it's careful when I'm there
 And I say your uncle was a crooked French-Canadian
 And he was gut-shot running gin
 And how his guts were all suspended in his fingers
 And how he held 'em
 How he held 'em, held 'em in
 And the water rolls down the drain (water rolls down the drain)
 The water rolls down the drain (water rolls down)
 Oh, what a lonely thing
 In a lonely drain
 July, July, July
 Never seemed so strange
 July, July, July
 Never seemed so, it never seemed so strange
 ♪
 This is the story of the road that goes to my house
 And what ghosts there do remain
 And all the troughs that run the length and breadth of my house
 And the chickens, how they rattle chicken chains
 And we'll remember this when we are old and ancient
 Though the specifics might be vague
 And I'll say your camisole was a sprightly light magenta
 When in fact it was a nappy blueish grey
 And the water rolls down the drain (water rolls down the drain)
 The blood rolls down the drain (blood rolls down the drain)
 Oh, what a lonely thing
 In a blood red drain
 July, July, July
 Never seemed so strange
 July, July, July
 Never seemed so, it never seemed so strange
 It never seemed so strange
 It never seemed so strange
 It never seemed so stra-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ange