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A lazy day upon the bay,
Nothing to do, nothing to say,
No places to be, no things to see;
No thoughts to chew; no bills for me.
Cool lemonade in my throat
Compliments my rocking boat,
And I find myself drifting away,
I find myself drifting away.
In dreamlike tranquility I leave the port,
Passing by islands, ships; other things of that sort.
I sail into the sun, on such a mild summer day,
Not a thought to chew; not a bill to pay.
The sea is spread wide before me; not a speck of land in sight.
Below me is the blue sea, and above the sky, stark white.
Yet I notice a grey streak, then another - and more!
The sky seems to darken; next I hear a distant roar.
The wind picks up quickly;
I secure the cabin door.
Thoughts of squalls clutter the mind,
And I recall once-forgotten sea-lore.
Cruel storms manifest.
Waves scream in the tempest.
Battered by harsh ocean sprays.
Tossed about the thrashing ship,
From the edge of the boat I so fearfully slip!
Then I tumble into this rapacious, foreign sea.
So little hope is left for me.
On a splintering board I bang my head,
A haze in my eyes - a blaring mad red!
Now I am dead.
But all is fine,
The boat, the bay,
I am home in the now;
It is all okay.
But in my slumber, I tossed and turned; nearly killed!
And now I sit,