What was there is gone, now remains an empty hand
You swallowed your ticket stub, have a seat on the sand
Preferably, for your pleasure, a spot where the sea caresses the land
I'll take your heavy coat and all that is bland
Stow your fear, it will only taint an experience mildly described as grand
Breathe out, forfeit all that you have planned
Soon we will depart from this strand
Don't fret if we are in an abyss, trench, or anywhere with fish
Just reach out to me if you require assistance to stand