| He smelt the briny ocean when he was seventeen
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| Just said goodbye, cause sailors never cry
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| When the life ashore became no more
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| Than just a point of dad, he tried to realize
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| The words the old man said:
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| Son, you’ll never live in Clover
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| But the last word’s up to you
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| If you really thought it over
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| Do what you must do
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| Daddy, I don’t know if I’m wrong
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| Dad, but it’s there where I belong
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| Daddy, once I’ll be back to see
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| If at home it’s really better like you said to me
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| He sailed across the seven seas from England to Japan
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| He saw all the places in the world
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| But somewhere in his heart, there is a start of yearning
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| For the land he left behind, that he adored
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| Son, you’ll never live in Clover
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| But the last word’s up to you
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| If you really thought it over
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| Do what you must do
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| Daddy I know that I was wrong
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| Dad I’m coming back where I belong
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| Daddy, those words you used to say:
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| That at home it’s really better — feel it every day |