He was lost trying to find you;
Kissed the girls on his way,
Then lost it, blown off,
He stabbed the man in his eye--
For you, I can't imagine why.
Are you supposed to be
The city we all look for,
But never really find?
He should thank the wind,
I think, the island is not my kind.
"Do you dwell in shining Ithaca,"
The name of the straight, just, and true?
No, but I saw them down in Ithaca,
Drunk, high, and in the lips all colored blue.
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