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1945 – Millay and husband Eugen retreat to Ragged Island to try to cure Millay's depression and kick their mutual morphine addiction.
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Miles from here, out in the ocean.
We'll sleep all night and swim all day.
Not really a plan just a notion,
Of how to wash these things away
We'll get clean on Ragged Island,
We'll strip the layers down to our skin.
We'll wear no clothes on Ragged Island,
And we'll be lovers once again.
No more sick beds, no more syringes.
No more morphine dreams ahead,
You'll have your words and I'll have your smiling eyes,
We'll get these demons out of our heads
New York city was never the answer,
We both know Paris was a mistake,
Even Steepletop held us ransom,
We could never really get away.
We'll get clean on Ragged Island,
We'll watch the dirt just float away.
Drifting currents, lazy motion,
Naked bodies at play.
I'm not asking I'm telling you,
We have to kick this thing or it's the end.
There's nothing I love as much in this whole wide world
But I can't love you if you're dead.
We'll get clean on Ragged Island,
We'll strip the layers down to our skin.
We'll wear no clothes on Ragged Island,
And we'll be lovers once again.
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