| I got a school boy heart, a novelist eye
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| Stout sailor’s legs and a license to fly
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| I came with nomad feet and some wandering toes
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| That walk up my longboard and hang off the nose
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| I suppose
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| The need to focus never arose
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| So something like a swiss army knife
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| That’s my life
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| Frankenstein had nothing on this body of mine
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| The villagers still flockin' to see, to see me
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| Breaking free, breaking free
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| Cause I got a school boy heart, a novelist eye
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| Stout sailor’s legs and a license to fly
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| I got a bartender’s ear and beachcomber’s style
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| Piratical nerve and a Vaudevillian style
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| I suspect I died in some cosmic shipwreck
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| With all hands spread all over the deck
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| What the heck
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| Then some kind of obscene and unscrupulous mind
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| Began to pick up what he could find
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| Added ice, shook me twice, rolled the dice
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| Now I got a school boy heart, a novelist eye
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| A sailor’s legs and a license to fly
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| I got a native tongue from way down south
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| It sits in the cheek of my gulf coastal mouth
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| I got a school boy heart, a novelist eye
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| Stout sailor’s legs and a license to fly
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| I came with nomad feet and some wandering toes
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| That glide up my longboard and hang off the nose
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| [In case there’s any interest, right before Banana Wind, Jimmy sez
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| «meetcha at the end meetcha at the end».] |