I'm stuck in this eddy.
And I'm such a poor swimmer.

I get swirled around.
Like a little helpless fly
caught in a wineglass.
Unbeknownst to the drinker.

I'm stuck in this eddy.
And I'm such a poor thinker.

I allow my mind
to get swashed around...
Like a lone sock
in the washing machine.
Lost without its other.

I'm stuck in this eddy.
And I'm such a poor survivor.*

So I just submit
to the will of the currents.
Like an empty bottle.
Stuck head down at the neck,
in the bathroom floor trap.

Sink or float...
I can do neither.

I was raised up a Southern Baptist,
Never missed a Sunday
There I'd be, fourth row back
To hear what the preacher would say
He preached of pearly gates,
Streets paved with gold
He said we'd see our passed loved ones
And treasures we would behold
He spoke of damnation should we stray
In the lake of fire there to dwell
But honestly, I always thought,
I'd have to die to go to hell