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Every so often, someone tells me a story,
About the things they've seen and places they have gone.
And I listen to them as politely as I can,
It's not their fault they don't know where I'm from.
I'm an Island boy,
I come from where the mist weaves in and out between the trees
And the whisper of the sea is always near.
I'm an Island boy,
I've been through rainstorms, gale-force winds, and three-sailing waits,
But the only place that I belong is here.
Sometimes in the moonlight, when I look out my window,
It seems to me I see my Island home.
And there in the glimmering, it all comes back to me
Sunny sparkles on the bright seafoam.
I'm an Island boy,
I come from where the mist weaves in and out between the trees
And the whisper of the sea is always near.
I'm an Island boy,
I've been through rainstorms, gale-force winds, and three-sailing waits,
But the only place that I belong is here.
I've got my ticket, and I'm heading for the dock,
Past a row of rough and tumble shacks
The boat itself is noisy, and it's trying to come apart
But I don't care a bit, I'm coming back.
To my Island home,
To see again the mist weave in and out between the trees
And the whisper of the sea again to hear.
My sweet Island home,
I've missed your rainstorms, gale-force winds, and three-sailing waits,
And the only place that I belong is here,
Yes, the only place that I belong is here.
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The sea is calm, no breeze is blowing,
It's another quiet evening in the bay.
My vision's blurred, the air is misty,
Sounds all seem to come from far away.
Now I'm sailing out of harbour on the ship without a name,
Flying high above the fields of ever-shifting sand,
The ship goes sailing on into the setting of the sun,
I know that I am far away from land.
The sea is getting deeper, the sky is turning red,
The northwest wind is howling loud, enough to raise the dead.
I'm sailing to the sunset, but the sun is blinding me,
I'm stuck inside this prison and I'm longing to be free!
The sea is rough, the wind is stormy,
A part of me is longing for the sand.
But now I'm here, there is no turning,
And in the distance, I can see the land.
Now I'm sailing out of harbour on the ship without a name,
Flying high above the fields of ever-shifting sand,
The ship goes sailing on into the setting of the sun,
I know that I am far away from land.
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