Strictly through a reed  
I breathe a little bit of oxygen
Caring less about life above the ice
Dismissent of a common feel, to be unmindful of the air
I stammer less in storms of wind
For they fill my lungs
I only care about the reed
It is a simple life and I know it
Every part of my routine is only focused on the air
But if I die I'm released from water prisons,
And break my focus.
Content while air is right.