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I wish we were sailing a caravel riding on the crest of wave where we sail from nobody knows or where we go to but the wind blows Our caravel has a radar too and a fishing net that the pikes swim through we trim all sharp and helm a lee And plumb the depths like fur seals The harbor is dark and the sea is green But our ship is just on an even keel The world is round and we'll butterfly Roil and splash to the other side |
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