| The man who sailed around his soul
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| From East to West, from pole to pole
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| With ego as his drunken captain
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| Greed, the mutineer, had trapped all reason in the hold
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| The man who walked across his heart
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| Who took no compass, guide or chart
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| To rope and tar his blood congealed
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| When he found his self revealed ugly and cold
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| And the Sirens that sing
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| By your nose with its ring
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| They’ll drag you in
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| For your sins
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| Now he sits all alone
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| And it’s no place like home
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| It’s empty skin
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| A bag to keep life’s souvenirs in
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| The man who sailed around his soul
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| The man who sailed around his soul
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| The man who sailed around his soul
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| Came back again to find a hole
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| Where once he thought compassion and the truth
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| Had laid to warm his freezing carcass on return
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| The man who walked across his heart
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| Was doomed to journey to the start
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| Of every love affair he’d broken
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| All the lies he’d ever spoken
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| Tattooed on his arm
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| And the jellyfish stings
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| Even angels with wings
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| Who look too deep
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| And dare to peep
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| Now he sits all alone
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| Knowing flesh blood and bone
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| Is everything
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| He found the treasure he’d been seeking
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| The man who sailed around his soul |