| Zippy morocco with a hat on his head
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| Set sail for the seven seas
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| When his mother took to dead
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| Barely out of teenagedom
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| When his mental map was unfurled
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| The next thing that he knew
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| He found himself halfway around the world
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| With nobody to send exotic postcards to
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| With nobody to send exotic postcards to
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| Zippy morocco as the admiral of fleet
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| Might’ve been wet behind the ears
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| But he certainly was fast on his feet
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| Put down a mutiny at the edge of the earth
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| He knew the value of the swirling sun
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| He never overestimated his own worth
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| It was the grief that whetted his appetite
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| It was the grief that whetted his appetite
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| And the waves they do not tell you welcome
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| And the sand on the shore
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| Does not spell out a hello
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| Salutations they are below the surface
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| Listen to zippy morocco, he says
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| «that is what i know»
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| Zippy morocco as the perfect pragmatist
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| Had a hold on the astronomical odds
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| And he knew what to risk
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| Staked a million on an easterly wind
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| Collected the holy city
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| Now the horse traders come to him
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| With their beads and cheese and horses
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| With their beads and cheese and horses |