Far down, down through the city's great, gaunt gut,
The gray train rushing bears the weary wind;
In the packed cars the fans the crowd's breath cut,
Leaving the sick and heavy air behind.
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Lightly among the islands of the deep;
Islands of lofty palm trees blooming white
That lend their perfume to the tropic sea,
Where fields lie idle in the dew drenched night,
And the Trades float above them fresh and free.
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Lightly among the islands of the deep; Islands of lofty palm trees blooming white That lend their perfume to the tropic sea, Where fields lie idle in the dew drenched night, And the Trades float above them fresh and free.