| In the days of old
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| Journeys to the middle of sea
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| Brought fortunes from the products
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| Of monsters
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| Yet one such fateful journeys would prove
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| Trying to even the most hardened sea bearer
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| For the beasts of the sea would take their revenge
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| On a vessel of maritime lore
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| Somewhere in the deep south
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| Near the grounds of great white beasts
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| The ship approached to pillage them for their greed
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| When one struck back, the vessel took to the deep
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| Now abondoned, stranded on small open boats
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| Three doomed parties left on the open sea
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| What lye ahead was ninety days
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| To endure the harsh elements and insanity
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| Nothing but hard bread and stale water
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| A diet of ocean slavery
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| When the storm came to feed
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| The crew was left with nothing
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| Left starving and hungry
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| Winds of unbelievable nature
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| Waves upon waves, the beating
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| Watching the bailing till morning
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| The rain it never goes away
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| The nights never seem to end
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| Day by day the famine grows worse
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| Exposed to the full force of the meridian sun
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| Without shield, the burning influence pierces through skin
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| The thirst unbearable, fastly wasting away
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| Dying from the elements
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| One boat lost at sea
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| Survival would soon turn to depravity
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| And out they spoke
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| And out they spoke for lots of flesh and blood
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| And who should die
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| And who should die for a fellow’s food
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| As one fell to weakness
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| The corpse ready to be disposed
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| In the sea
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| Lying there like a tasty meal of salty meat
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| In that, they should find relief from present sufferings
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| So preparations were made to preserve the meat
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| From spoilage
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| Separate the limbs — Cut the flesh from bones
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| Open the chest — Take out the heart
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| Now the cravings of nature
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| Could be eagerly devoured
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| A most deplorable and affecting picture
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| Of suffering and misery |