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Repair the hull, replace the sails. |
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The monkey wrestles with the ghost |
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And a thousand little pleasures form a thin veneer |
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Over lack of hope. |
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The captain was rightly murdered by the crew |
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But now they don't know what to do - |
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Drifting on the murky Sargasso of the everyday. |
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Work and slave and skimp and save |
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And you can buy yourself a bigger cage |
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And a thousand little cruelties we agree to pretend to ignore. |
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The ghost has got the monkey by the tail |
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And all they both can do is wail. |
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And you and I go drifting by the abandoned vessels of the everyday. |