| Traveled for many years,
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| He traveled across the seas.
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| Great ships taking him far, far away.
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| Left her, so many times he left her.
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| The children waved good-bye.
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| Mom would always cried inside.
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| She cried, she had pride.
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| Upon returning home one day,
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| Bought a guitar for his sons to play.
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| Within a year we strummed and we sang.
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| Everyone smiled as the harmonies rang.
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| All through the house all the melodies sang.
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| Years passed, we found a home,
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| And at last a house across the lake,
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| Swing on a vine in the woods.
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| Ocean, but how we missed the ocean.
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| He said, «Pack up, we’ll go back to the island our home.»
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| He took us home.
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| He took us all home.
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| Once back home the music had grown.
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| Citizens waited in line to be shown.
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| The family group was good, all agreed.
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| But nobody helped out the man and his dream.
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| Everyone laughed at the man and his dream.
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| He walked for miles up and down New York streets,
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| Selling the songs on the taping in his sheeth.
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| Strange looks from record company heads.
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| «Later on you’ll regret it», he said.
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| And later on they remembered he said.
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| Father, we’d like to thank you.
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| Father, and so we thank you.
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| Father, we’d like to say we love you. |