| Oh the gist of it all is the first day of fall is the day when my ship will set
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| sail
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| The best of all friends will say good-bye again there’s still time for one last
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| glass of ale
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| We’ll sail away proudly, our backs to the wall on a southwind and lots of good
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| cheer
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| And when we’ve looked over the white cliffs of Dover, We’ll be in Bahama next
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| year
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| From Bermuda on down the Triangle around us will teach us a lesson or two
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| There’s many a mate who unevenyly stated the course he had charted was true
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| «Don't worry 'bout me,» he said «Go down below, give a certified sailor a turn
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| Just sip on your rum or I’ll give you my thumb and say, son you got something
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| t' learn!»
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| It’s a mighty hard way to come down
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| And a mighty fine way to be found
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| So hand me my grip from an old sailing ship
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| Put the kiss of the dawn on my lips
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| With some luck tonight I might have her at my fingertips
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| Oh the best of all things is the first day of spring when when the water runs
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| heavy and fast
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| The mermaids have all gone to Davy Jones' Ball
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| And it seems their first trip was their last
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| They had so much fun
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| They don’t wish to return
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| To the beach where they lay all day long
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| They’d rather stay under
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| And boy it’s no wonder
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| When all the rock lobsters roll on
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| It’s a mighty fine way to be found
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| Triangle Triangle
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| Oh see my ship dangle
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| We’re bound for Bahama my friend
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| Like lovers like danger
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| Like babies like mangers
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| But that’s where my storybook ends
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| Like soldiers of fortune, believers in God
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| And all kings without crosses to bear
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| All sweepers and cleaners
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| With no misdemeanors
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| Should try the triangle out there
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| It’s a mighty hard way to come down
|
| And a mighty fine way to be found
|
| So hand me my grip
|
| From an old sailing ship
|
| Put the kiss of dawn on my lips
|
| With some luck tonight
|
| I might have her at my fingertips
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| When she took her last tumble
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| The sea bottom rumbled
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| There was no confusion or blame
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| The captain said «Men we must answer again to the sea so ye may not complain»
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| And as they lay sleeping down there in the deep
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| With their faces turned up to the stars
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| A tuna fish turned
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| To a mermaid in bed and said
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| «There goes another sandbar»
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| It’s a mighty hard way to come down
|
| And a mighty fine way to be found
|
| So hand me my grip
|
| From an old sailing ship
|
| Put the kiss of the dawn on my lips
|
| With some luck tonight
|
| I might have her at my fingertips |