Deep Forbidden Lake

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    On the lake, the deep forbidden lake, the old boats go gliding by, 
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    and the leaves are falling from the trees and landing on the logs and I 
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    see the turtles heading for the bog and falling off the log. 
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    They make the water splash, and feeling no backlash, 
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    they climb the happy banks. 

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    On the boats, the old and creaky boats, the shoreline goes gliding by. 
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    And the wind, there was a dying breeze, is making the banners fly. 
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    See the colors, floating in the sky, the pride of the captain's eye, 
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    as he glides his slender craft inside and opens up the door. 

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    On the coast, the long and tempting coast, the cards on the table lie, 
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    and a speech, so eloquent in reach, was made by a passerby, 
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    passing by the way between here and left behind. 
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    And it ripples through the crowds who run and cast their doubts 
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    in the deep forbidden lake. 
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    Yes, it echoes through the crowds who run and cast their doubts 
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    in the deep forbidden lake.