She floats like a dream,
Before she sinks under,
Carrying in her folds,
The dying cries of the soldiers,
Oh! who is she to hold,
The passenger or the driver,
She thought she was old
Till she saw she never got wiser
When asked, how old?
She'd always say, a year older
But as you grow
Should you be told?
Movement, you know?
Is part of growth
As we all know
She can't float
If her boat,
she can't row

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