| I was born in the shadow of a fairfield crane
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| When the blast of a freighter’s horn was the very first sound that reached my
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| ear
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| On the morning I was born
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| As I lay and I listened to the shipyard sound coming out of the great unknown
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| And was sung to sleep by the mother tongue that was to be my own
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| And when I grew to be one year old I heard the siren’s scream
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| As the city watched in the blacked out night
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| A wandering search light’s beam
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| And when at last I awoke and rose to my first day of peace
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| For I’d learned that the battle to stay alive
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| Was never going to sea |