| sissie wouldn’t believe when I told her the old man was gone
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| the one who lived all alone in the shack on the shore
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| that’s so hard to find, so har to go past
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| he used to light our cigarettes and never tell anyone
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| he had blue tattoos and he’d tell us tall stories from the bottom of a rum glass
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| he’s got things to see on the spanish main he’s gone away for awhile
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| he’s gone skullduggering on the spanish main he’s gone away far away
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| thought I heard sails creaking as the stars paled
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| anchor chains clinking as the night failed way out on the bay
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| no one else knows how he crowed when they crowned him king of the cannibal isles
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| or how he’d really feel blind drunk at the wheel through a high hurricane
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| he could dupe the devil at dice and charm charmers whit his beguiling smile
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| how he fell in love in Lima and a schemer stole his pearly girl and broke his
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| heart again
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| now all the foes he killed call him in to fight with their beckoning bones
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| and all the gold he stole sparkles in the morning light
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| his sweet ladies are all alone
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| sissie dear let’s not go near the church today
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| the big bells tolling the hearse goes rolling the holy joes pray
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| as they lay him away
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| lived one too many winters cold cold weather
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| had to sail down to the south sea waters warm
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| his old bones there
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| let an old man go through
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| let an old man go through |