| Six years ago in a land I call home
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| I drank too much ale and I bet I could roam
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| To far away lands and be back in a year
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| With nothing on me but a bag and rapier
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| The first part was simple, a friend picked me up
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| He stopped on an island, he owed me a buck
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| Provided supplies and the path lay down bright
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| And the mood was so high until then came the night
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| So I’m waiting and waiting a ship hits the shore
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| Again it’s just pirates or cutthroats and more
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| But I’m longing for home so I’m joining the scrubs
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| Let me tell you my friend: Naval hitchhiking sucks
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| Seven days later my courage was lost
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| Had desperately searched all my luggage’s slots
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| For now I am wasted and willing to starve
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| And I am embracing the pitiful smart
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| The first part was simple now what a mistake
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| He stopped on an island no way to escape
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| Used all the supplies and no mast and no flag
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| Had appeared on the shore so I ate my own leg
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| So I’m waiting and waiting a ship hits the shore
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| Again it’s just pirates or cutthroats or more
|
| But I’m longing for home so I’m joining the scrubs
|
| Let me tell you my friend: Naval hitchhiking sucks
|
| So I’m waiting and waiting a ship hits the shore
|
| Again it’s just pirates or cutthroats or more
|
| But I’m longing for home so I’m joining the scrubs
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| Let me tell you my friend: Naval hitchhiking sucks
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| Ahoi! |