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  • It's Maine, and it's Autumn, the birches have just begun turning
    It's life and it's dying
    The lobstermen's boats come returning with the catch of the day in their holds
    And the young boy is cold and complaining
    The fog meets the beaches and out on the Reach it is raining
    It's father and son, it's the way it's been done since the old days
    It's hauling by hand ten miles out from the land where their chow waits
    And the days are all lonely and long and the seas grow so stormy and strong but...
    The Reach will sing welcome as homeward they hurry along
    (Chorus)
    And the morning will blow away as the waves crash and fall
    And the Reach like a siren sings as she beckons and calls
    As the coastline recedes from view and the seas swell and roll
    I will take from the Reach all that she has to teach to the depths of my soul
    The wind brings a chill, there's a frost on the sill in the morning
    It creeps through the door
    On the edge of the shore ice is forming
    Soon the northers will bluster and blow
    And the woods will be whitened with snowfall
    And the Reach will lie frozen for the lost and unchosen to row
    (Chorus)
  • It's Maine, and it's Autumn, the birches have just begun turning
    It's life and it's dying
    The lobstermen's boats come returning with the catch of the day in their holds
    And the young boy is cold and complaining
    The fog meets the beaches and out on the Reach it is raining
    It's father and son, it's the way it's been done since the old days
    It's hauling by hand ten miles out from the land where their chow waits
    And the days are all lonely and long and the seas grow so stormy and strong but...
    The Reach will sing welcome as homeward they hurry along
    (Chorus)
    And the morning will blow away as the waves crash and fall
    And the Reach like a siren sings as she beckons and calls
    As the coastline recedes from view and the seas swell and roll
    I will take from the Reach all that she has to teach to the depths of my soul
    The wind brings a chill, there's a frost on the sill in the morning
    It creeps through the door
    On the edge of the shore ice is forming
    Soon the northers will bluster and blow
    And the woods will be whitened with snowfall
    And the Reach will lie frozen for the lost and unchosen to row
    (Chorus)