A bubble in the river,
A tiny froth of foam,
Pushed and rushed and jostled
Through a world it does not know.
It has no oar to steer with
Nor hands nor feet to try,
And so it floats in the hands of fate,
In currents aimed and blind.
A bubble in the river,
A tiny froth of foam,
Pushed and rushed and jostled
Through a world it does not know.
It has no oar to steer with
Nor hands nor feet to try,
And so it floats in the hands of fate,
In currents aimed and blind.
twytte 