| There’s a lotta folks down at the island
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| That follow that astrology
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| Some got a chart of the heavens
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| And some got a fancy degree
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| But me I got a pick-up
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| And I drive it like a Fourth of July
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| And that’s where I seen the vision
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| When it fell right out of the sky
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| It said
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| Follow, follow the southern cross
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| Leave your luck in Mexico
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| There ain’t no way to get lost
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| Cause there ain’t no place to go
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| So I bought me a ticket to Texas
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| And I hopped on a plane to Peru
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| I met a little lady from Chile
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| And she fed me a tropical root
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| Now I’m down in Tierra del Fuego
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| And nothin' around me is right
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| I think I got a case of lumbago
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| But it’s better than the northern lights
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| I gotta
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| Follow, follow the southern cross
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| Leave your luck in Mexico
 | 
| There ain’t no way to get lost
 | 
| Cause there ain’t no place to go
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| (HORN SOLO)
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| So I paddled out to Easter Island
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| About as fast as I could go
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| I saw and albatross on the horizon
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| And the stone heads all in a row
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| I found the secret of navigation
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| And the mystery of the Milky Way
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| Now I’m livin' in the constellations
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| Tell me what more I can say
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| You gotta
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| Follow, follow the southern cross
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| And leave your luck in Mexico
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| There ain’t no way to get lost
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| Cause there ain’t no place to go
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| Whoa!
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| (HORN STUFF)
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| Lyrics are copyright 1975, 1976, Steve Cash & John Dillon |