| Well I sat down by this old man who told me heroic stories of mermaids and old
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| pirates
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| tales of failure, faith and glory
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| once rumours were spread across the land of bravery
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| So protected, far away, like a treasure in the sea
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| Tales full of glory told by scarred countrymen
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| They grew up in this old town where it all began
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| Shake their hands and just listen carefully
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| Forget time and go back in history
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| Sunday afternoon the bar is filled with local heroes,
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| Smoke is drifting through the place,
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| In the dim lights there are shadows
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| Well outside a storm is raging and the rain is falling down,
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| And a stranger’s in for shelter,
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| Friendly people all around
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| Tales full of glory told by scarred countrymen
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| They grew up in this old town where it all began
|
| Shake their hands and just listen carefully
|
| Forget time and go back in history
|
| Tales full of glory told by scarred countrymen
|
| They grew up in this old town where it all began
|
| Shake their hands and just listen carefully
|
| Forget time and go back in history
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| While other places bow cod profit and modernisation
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| They hold to old traditions against all contamination
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| It’s a place of miracles, their way of life is not for sale
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| Visit this old which captured beauty of a fairytale
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| Tales full of glory told by scarred countrymen
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| They grew up in this old town where it all began
|
| Shake their hands and just listen carefully
|
| Forget time and go back in history |