dump swimmin'

barks of trees in dumps decay

the water wind whisked the wing,

of a child,

warbling tween the water and the air,

weeping,

saying,

"i could not wade, nor plot, and you never asked me to stay afloat

i'll submerge,

i'll decay

but the time will come,

when you will pay."

dump swimmin'

what a good ol' thing,

this water blurrin'