Some rows up, but we floats down,
Way down the Ohio to Shawneetown.
Chorus:
Hard on the beech oar, she moves too slow.
Way down to Shawneetown on the Ohio.
The whiskey's in the jug, boys, the wheat is in the sack.
We'll trade 'em down to Shawneetown and we'll bring the
rock salt back.
I got a wife in Louisville and one in New Orleans,
And when I get to Shawneetown gonna see my Indian Queen.
Now them good ol' boys, they talk loud and long.
They wide as a barrel and their twice as strong
The water's might warm, boys, the air is cold and dank,
And the cursed fog it gets so thick you cannot see the
bank.
Now the current's got her and we'll take up the slack.
Float her down to Shawneetown and we'll bushwack her
back.
Some rows up, but we floats down,
Way down the Ohio to Shawneetown.