Cut, cut away. Let the axes fly
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Let a loose them ropes and everything dry
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Leave the scars of the land far away ashore
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Let the strumpets cry like the waves will roar
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Let the pall dispurse. Let them see our stern
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Pray we nay be moored, pray our names be earned
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Let our bildge grow damp, let our futtocks crack
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May our bows be strong, and the wind at our back.
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Lucky fools! Hoist up them colors!!
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Lucky fools! Hoist up them colors!!
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Bring the anchor up, up, let the sails roll down
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Let them rats grow old, may we hang on drown
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Let the swell grow high. Nay we stillness feel
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Let the fathoms wail down below our keel
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Set! set a sail. Let the land landlubbers stay,
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Leave this cradle of dirt to the ocean's spray
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Let the skies and seas be our only friends
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Let our journey start, long before it ends!
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Lucky fools! Hoist up them colors!!
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Lucky fools! Hoist up them colors!!
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Take the fates... back to our hands! back to our hands!
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Take the fates... back to our hands! back to our hands!
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Hoist Up The Colors!
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Asaf Avidan |