• Idly he sits on a rocky island
    Woefully considering his plight
    He's constantly losing sand
    He's constantly losing sight

    Cushioning the inevitable
    He can't stand to be alone
    As he gets closer to that table
    Of too much painful stone

    "I'm too weak, pink and soft
    And I rue that horrid day.
    Under me it will grind aloft
    Until only my bones here lay!"

    In all his agony, when all was completely lost
    In all his panic, into the ocean he was tossed