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I waved to you as my boat was leaving |
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Hats flew up and everybody cheered, |
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But you turned as I guess someone spoke to you, |
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And in a sea of arms you disappeared. |
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I lived the life of a ragged soldier |
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The secretary to a rebel king, |
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He kept us drunk and hungry in a jungle |
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Tangled in the lilies of his scheme. |
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We gambled and we fought with one another |
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We had no code to give us unity, |
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Most died among us without God or honor |
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As blood became our faith and currency. |
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And all the while I kept your name beside me |
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I wrote it, but refused it on my tongue, |
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Believing you a song still there inside me |
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I feared your loss if ever it were sung. |
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I found myself at last upon a shoreline |
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I booked my passage home and stood in tears, |
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With a bag of apples and a forged passport |
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-The first I'd seen my face in seven years... |
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Now I wonder at the day when I might find you, |
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Appear among the living at your door, |
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Will you have a husband and some children? |
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Will we share a secret anymore? |
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Life is brutal to the weak and sober |
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Its powers of persuasion dark and grave, |
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lt pushes its way up to the railing |
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Then turns its face when you start to wave. |