(Phillip Chevron)
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The island it is silent now
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But the ghosts still haunt the waves
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And the torch lights up a famished man
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Who fortune could not save
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Did you work upon the railroad
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Did you rid the streets of crime
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Were your dollars from the white house
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Were they from the five and dime
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Did the old songs taunt or cheer you
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And did they still make you cry
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Did you count the months and years
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Or did your teardrops quickly dry
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Ah, No, says he 'twas not to be
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On a coffin ship I came here
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And I never even got so far
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That they could change my name
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Thousands are sailing
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Across the Western Ocean
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To a land of opportunity
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That some of them will never see
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Fortune prevailing
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Across the Western Ocean
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Their bellies full
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And their spirits free
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They'll break the chains of poverty
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And they'll dance
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In Manhattan's desert twilight
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In the death of afternoon
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We stepped hand in hand on Broadway
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Like the first man on the moon
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And "The Blackbird" broke the silence
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As you whistled it so sweet
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And in Brendan Behan's footsteps
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I danced up and down the street
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Then we said goodnight to Broadway
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Giving it our best regards
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Tipped our hats to Mister Cohan
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Dear old Times Square's favourite bard
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Then we raised a glass to J.F.K.
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And a dozen more besides
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When I got back to my empty room
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I suppose I must have cried
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Thousands are sailing
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Again across the ocean
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Where the hand of opportunity
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Draws tickets in a lottery
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Postcards we're mailing
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Of sky-blue skies and oceans
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From rooms the daylight never sees
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Where lights don't glow on Christmas trees
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But we dance to the music
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And we dance
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Thousands are sailing
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Across the Western Ocean
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Where the hand of opportunity
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Draws tickets in a lottery
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Where e'er we go, we celebrate
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The land that makes us refugees
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From fear of Priests with empty plates
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From guilt and weeping effigies
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Now we dance to the music
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And we dance
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Thousands Are Sailing
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The Pogues |