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(unaccompanied, shanty-style) I stood upon the foredeck and hoisted up me sails with anchor weighed we sail away from the coast of New South Wales to leave the Hill Song far behind Their Siren sings to me So from ScoMo's land I'm bound to search for Albanese   (CH) Do you hear the Song of the Hills singing to you and me Let's none of us be Apr

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