Off the coral cay

Off the cays We got no life, what! no life? we got no life at all. We’re rollin’ zoots for the suits and the suits suit themselves. Half-starved and yet we’re dragging our feet almost as if we’ve got meat on our bones, but bones is what we have come too, I’ve seen you out…

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The wanted column

Hardly an invasion. Desperate soul seeks new home, would settle for an old home in a new country, willing to learn, willing to work…

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