| I left the house left the room with the foxy on my back
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| And my supplies in a magic pack
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| And I followed the sound of music
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| Not up a hill … but down to an old wharf shack
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| Inside I heard the trumpets call
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| I salute to the champions on the wall
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| And in the jazz of squalls and impassioned brawls she danced
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| And the night she looked so fine to me
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| Oh I am a man on an Odyssey
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| And so tie me to the mast I must believe!
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| Wow didi didi I just had to look
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| I said wow didi didi how those hips they shook
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| Eye patch tongue ring little black book
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| Welcome fishies to my hook
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| And the tiny chefs they waved their giant knives
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| And the dark goumas they flicked dynamite
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| Still I kept the sight of my desire
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| And this one thing’s sure I made no apologies
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| Lights dimmed but she shone like mythology
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| And I must admit she felt so alive
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| She waves for everybody down on the floor
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| As if to pray to the gods of the festival
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| And there we were in the depths of the wild below
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| Her face so close I could taste the distant shores
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| She whispered ‘wait for the trumpet’s call'
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| It’s not exactly love it’s to adore |