Lyrics:

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