It seems the worst of the waves are yet to come
The rough before the storm
As I sit in my newspaper boat, afloat
In a sea deep with regret
Waves topple, I tumble, boat falls asunder
Can I stay afloat?
Donning cap like Edmund, grab the ship debris
But it's not news to me
And the waves crash harder, deeper I go
'til my feet touch the bottom and I feel Peter
He's trying to go home, but this is not the way
I emerge and here I find, the best for last has stayed behind
And a wave of enormous proportions crashes down
I'm churned like a washing machine
Growing dizzy as the stains are erased
But I loved the stains; they made me who I was
The wave pops me out, and I see who I am
And it's not news to me
No, it's not news to me