It's not the cold and wet that bothers me
Nor standing by, unmoved, the fathers see
And not the overcast skies
That bring the tears to my eyes
Not even the chanting of the people
Beneath the shadow of church's steeple
Causes head and strength to fail
My stomach churning, turning pale
It's despite the guilt that throws me down
This well as punishment to drown
I remain immortalized by verse
So, unable to escape my curse
No final release from my own author
And knowing full well, he would not bother
To change my fate or allow me death
Or against this water, give me breath
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