Feet in front of the fire, life pulsating by. As we slow for a second, In the hazy historic high of Beechworth; bank robbers, like Ned, buccaneers and watch the gold rush by.
I swim I tire I drown Tumbling down Over and round I sink to the ground No air to be found I Struggle around These lungs are bound don't want to drown float to the top look all around no land is found So