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Down To The Keys

๐Ÿ‘ค The Fishermen Three โ€ข ๐ŸŽผ Time To Think About The Morning, Once Again โ€ข โฑ๏ธ 5:49
๐ŸŽต 2241 characters
โฑ๏ธ 5:49 duration
๐Ÿ†” ID: 9169821

๐Ÿ“œ Lyrics

There's a picture of grandpa
That hangs on the wall
At the foot of the stairs
In the windowless hall

Taken somewhere down
In the Florida Keys
A machete in hand
Hanging down by his knees

He had to escape
From the winter up here
So he left New York
In his twenty-fourth year

Went to where his hands
Could do the work of his head
And where making a living
Wasn't making him dead

His eyes were a little crazy
He was wiry and tough
Like a photo I once saw
Of Paul Newman on the set of "Exodus"

In his right hand he held the leg
Of a bull at his feet
That they slaughtered to give themselves
A season's worth of meet

To the side of him an old farmer
A shadow with a cane
And I heard that they were friends
But I never heard his name

And I never knew my grandpa
When he lived down in the Keys
Only later when life
Had him down on his knees

I'm sailing back to the Keys
Past the Chesapeake Bay
Turn the corner at Georgia
And I'm almost all the way

There's a war in here
In the middle of the night
I'm sailing down to the Keys
So I don't have to fight

But I guess that he was lucky
'Cause he got to travel 'round
And he saw a lot of places
'Fore we laid him in the ground

But lately I've been wond'ring
If it matters where you've been
As much as how you did the going
To the kind of shape you're in

Some people fear the morning
When death knocks on their door
And their love affair with life
Just can't go on like before

They don't realize that death don't kill you
It gets life to do the work
It cuts you up and holds you down
While you bleed into the dirt

Grandpa saw it coming
He knew how it would end
But he didn't move quite fast enough
Life caught up with him

And because he'd known the feeling
Of a beast's life in his hand
To be on the other side
When he could not understand

So I got me this boat
Don't really know how to sail
But I figure I can learn
With something hot on my trail

'Cause you don't leave any footprints
When you're traveling by sea
Ev'ry now and then I turn my head
Make sure nothin's behind me

I'm sailing back to the Keys
Past the Chesapeake Bay
Turn the corner at Georgia
And I'm almost all the way

There's a war in here
In the middle of the night
I'm sailing down to the Keys
So I don't have to fight

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