Lyrics:
the sun, the Great Divide I believe there's a storm a' brewin', a nine crows at nine o'clock nigh Dutch man at the mizzenmast six harpies are singin'
of the bra was larger than the other Ran it up the mizzenmast And tied the ropes off Looked to the foremast like What the fuck is going on I could hardly
pour With round and grape metal we peppered his hull Till down came his mizzenmast, colours, and all We towed him in Portsmouth that very same day
the sun, The Great Divide. I believe there's a storm a' brewin', Nine crows at nine o'clock nigh. Dutch man at the mizzenmast, Six harpies are singin'
bare alone by mizzen-mast. The sailors jeered at Nicolas who paid them no regard until the hour of sunset came and up he stood and stopped their game
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