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Well I'm on the Downeaster "Alexa" |
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And I'm cruising through Block Island Sound |
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I have charted a course to the Vineyard |
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But tonight I am Nantucket bound |
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We took on diesel back in Montauk yesterday |
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And left this morning from the bell in Gardiner's Bay |
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Like all the locals here I've had to sell my home |
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Too proud to leave I worked my fingers to the bone |
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So I could own my Downeaster "Alexa" |
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And I go where the ocean is deep |
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There are giants out there in the canyons |
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And a good captain can't fall asleep |
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I've got bills to pay and children who need clothes |
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I know there's fish out there but where God only knows |
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They say these waters aren't what they used to be |
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But I've got people back on land who count on me |
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So if you see my Downeaster "Alexa" |
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And if you work with the rod and the reel |
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Tell my wife I am trawling Atlantis |
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And I still have my hands on the wheel |
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Now I drive my Downeaster "Alexa" |
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More and more miles from shore every year |
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Since they tell me I can't sell no stripers |
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And there's no luck in swordfishing here. |
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I was a bayman like my father was before |
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Can't make a living as a bayman anymore |
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There ain't much future for a man who works the sea |
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But there ain't no island left for islanders like me |