| There’s a man I meet walks up our street
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| He’s a worker for the council
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| Has been twenty years
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| And he takes no lip off nobody
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| And litter off the gutter
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| Puts it in a bag
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| And never seems to mutter
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| And he packs his lunch in a «sunblest"bag
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| The children call him «bogie»
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| He never lets on
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| But I know 'cause he once told me
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| He let me know a secret about the money in his kitty
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| He’s gonna buy a dinghy
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| Gonna call her dignity
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| And I’ll sail her up the west coast
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| Through villages and towns
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| I’ll be on my holidays
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| They’ll be doing their rounds
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| They’ll ask me how I got her I’ll say «I saved my money»
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| They’ll say isn’t she pretty that ship called dignity
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| And I’m telling this story
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| In a faraway scene
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| Sipping down raki
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| And reading maynard keynes
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| And I’m thinking about home and all that means
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| And a place in the winter for dignity
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| And I’ll sail her up the west coast
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| Through villages and towns
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| I’ll be on my holidays
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| They’ll be doing their rounds
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| They’ll ask me how I got her I’ll say «I saved my money»
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| They’ll say isn’t she pretty that ship called dignity
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| And I’m thinking about home
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| And I’m thinking about faith
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| And I’m thinking about work
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| And I’m thinking about how good it would be
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| To be here some day
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| On a ship called dignity
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| A ship called dignity
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| That ship |