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Clyde
Look, the ark, it is bearing down
And you are staring down
The wind and the sea
And hoping perhaps
With the waters going back
That a new day will have dawned
But see, the ark, it is resting now
High on Mount Ararat
Starting again
And the cargo that it brought
Is leaping from the hold
Looking for the chaos that it sought
The ark, the ark, it is giving forth
You might say it is giving birth
To the children of man
But who is this?
Staring at the sunshine?
Drying socks, laughing, shoving, crying?
Not you, not me my friend
Are not these the men of the iron mountain?
Were not these the leaders of the fighting?
Ah now, you see my friend . . . . .
Polish up your helmets, lads, we're going on parade
We praise our God for sparing us to fight another day
We'll sing his song in unison, we'll sing in harmony
We'll stamp out insurrection, wherever it may be
So bring on the rain
And the lightning from the sky
And let us hope again
Oh look, the ark, it drifting now
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