It's a life of the bum, spill of the rum
Sound of the freight, a time worth the weight
Well, you can't keep us down
All you billyclub clowns
'Cause we don't speak your language
Oh well, sometimes we come out swinging
Sometimes we land flat broke
Whatever the hand that you deal me
You know that I'll call
But nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
But nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
But nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
Let the whistle blow on the wind
It can carry us away again
For we are some of the few special ones
Who still sing
But nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
But nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
But nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
But nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
But nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
But nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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