Round and round—at times life seems
But a dizzying whirlpool, smashing beams
And spars like toothpicks, crushing dreams
Of the day my ship comes in
Unlike Odysseus, I will face
Its growling hunger; by God’s grace
Across its funnel I will race
And squelch its noisy din
And when my victory ends this pain,
I’ll christen my new life with champagne
And for all my mates she drove insane
I’ll celebrate this win
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