Do you think it hurts to drown?
I think the lungs become snow-globes
Filled with driftwood and bloated corpses
Like hurricane season for a tiny fishing town
All three docks are splintered in the shrieking winds
And all the people hide and pray as thatch and sod are ripped away
And do they cease to lay
Or chance a run for shelter
The risk of debris and wind and rain is nothing
When every option bares the same choice:
Stand and die, stay and die, run and die
So… what should I do?
Stand and die? Stay and die? Run and die?
Gale force and splinters wide as doors aside,
Do you think it hurts to drown?
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