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Murky
So I’m dead.
I’m just lying here, at the bottom of the Thames
My memory is murky like the water
But I’m slowly remembering what happened
I was in my single, doing a sprint
And then I flipped
And I slowly sank to the bottom
Having lost all will to swim back up again
I just stopped, and realized
That I didn’t have to
My boat is capsized and my oars
Flail about like the fins of a fish with epilepsy
Someone might eventually come for me
I’m guessing the coach will call the river marshalls
He’s going to be pissed
So much paperwork to fill out
Not my problem, he can’t yell at me now
I’m just a bit confused
I always believed in Heaven
But see, I’m here on the bottom of the Thames
Watching the beer cans float by above my head
I’m sinking comfortably into the squishy muck
And I don’t mind at all
I always loved how the mud felt on my feet
I could try swimming back up but I’m dead
And I’d much rather lie here instead
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