Three o'clock in the morning
Snowing and I can't go home
Coming down in Kingston
Christmas Eve the roads are closed
Just like Walter Gibson
Knowing what the Shadow knows
And on their way
From Saratoga
They burned our fields
They burned our homes
Candy shop quartet
Free coffee and chocolate
Dreaming of the pine needles
Waiting for my next set
Hallucinating wonders
Drying out like Benedict
And on their way
From Saratoga
They burned our fields
They burned our homes
They burned our homes
They burned our homes
Commander of the troops
I tried to capture Bemis Heights
Talking in tongues
They couldn't get to me on time
Forced to retreat
I turned and ran to safety in the pines
And on their way
From Saratoga
They burned our fields
They burned our homes