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The story of the world
It's like a mould.
The sunken treasures
Have all the measures.
How many people there,
In the doom of the Day,
Have all the dismay.
The realm of life
It's for us to find
Not for another kind.
How many battles ahead
To replenish the dead
Upon the high seas
Where everything is bliss.
The men of the sea
Are all in the lee
All around the world
Down in every port.
And you might ask why
Under the sky we're all getting by.
Giulio Francesco Iacobini
Copyright ©2001 Giulio Iacobini
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