| We drink to those lost at sea
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| Who never made it off the beach
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| To those who won’t make it home
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| Buried in the salty deep
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| Mothers' sons that we knew so well
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| Without a care or a chance in hell
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| Laid a life on a line in harm’s way and out of mine
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| So their brothers could live to tell
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| So my brother could live to tell
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| «How the sky never looked so deep
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| With the moon shining down on me»
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| «I never known it before burning foreign shores
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| Boys in flak and trench, prayers to stave off death unheard»
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| «So old man pour another couple rounds on me
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| Keep 'em coming and the rye in reach»
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| «Be it shellshock or heartbreak
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| We’re all dying for a stiffer drink
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| Or dying on a line
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| No god there to hear our plea»
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| «We've been laid out and desperate
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| No blood here left to bleed»
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| We drink to those lost at sea
|
| Who never made it off the beach
|
| To those who won’t make it home
|
| Buried in the salty deep
|
| Mothers' sons that we knew so well
|
| Without a care or a chance in hell
|
| Laid a life on a line in harm’s way and out of mine
|
| So their brothers could live to tell
|
| So old man pour another couple rounds on me
|
| Keep 'em coming and the rye in reach
|
| Be it shellshock or heartbreak
|
| Or dying on a line
|
| No god there to hear our plea
|
| We’ve been laid out and desperate
|
| So my brother could live to tell
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| So my brother and I… |