I am old feeling cold I should be home in my bed.

But you will find me instead,

Sailing this boat

Into the eye of a storm

And it’s hard to keep warm

I should be wearing a coat.

But the screaming wind picks me up.


As if it’s lifting a cup

And does not want to spill does not want to kill

The life that’s inside.

I want to run want to hide

But I am stuck at the wheel thinking is this `deal or no deal`

Then I am carried away to another time another day.


Borne by the storm and now I feel warm.

I no longer hunger for bed

I shall go out looking for more storms instead.


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