| Lumberjack’s looking out for trees
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| Chopping days out of centuries
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| But you get them underneath
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| Cause they ain’t so tough I heard things about 'em
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| The dark sea is a careless host
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| From north poll to pacific coast
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| Pure blood is the viking’s toast
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| But his heart will cry if it goes without it
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| And the sirens always sing
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| The chants from heaven
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| Not expecting to be heard
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| But the love that it won’t bring
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| Will make hearts sever
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| Of those who go…
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| The sweet call of the distant shore
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| They don’t know what they’re wishing for
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| If they knock on the devil’s door
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| They better make sure they got something to say
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| Everybody has a life to fill
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| They hate waiting and they can’t sit still
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| And what is time but something to kill
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| Until it’s nothing left and the night has the last laugh
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| They all know when it comes to you
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| The lucky ride only takes a few
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| Why have a soul when it’s yours to loose
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| You gotta pick your fight you got work to do
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| Some say that they’re running away
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| From what or where now they wouldn’t say
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| In their minds they’re never late
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| Cause there ain’t no-one that is waiting for them
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| And the sirens always sing
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| The chants from heaven
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| Not expecting to be heard
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| But the love that it won’t bring
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| Will make hearts sever
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| Of those who go…
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| Pale riders in a lonely nest
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| I bet their spanish doesn’t work for this
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| And a banner that they can’t resist
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| But they’re not so tough I heard things about them
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| Some say that they’re running away
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| From what or where now they wouldn’t say
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| On a road trip you cannot stray
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| But you can get lost trying to find your way home
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| Of virtue and a sin
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| The sails will shiver
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| And promises will burn
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| And underneath the skin
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| The heart will quiver
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| Of those who roam
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| And the sirens always sing
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| The chants from heaven
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| Not expecting to be heard
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| But the love that it won’t bring
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| Will make hearts sever
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| Of those who go… |