I

row

row

up the creek

the creek that was formed from many squeezing cheeks

the flow so thick but still I sink like a ton of bricks

I should have known that my crystal clear waters would turn shit brown

I should have seen it in your eyes and got to shore before I began to drown

I suppose my patience is my virtue and you my teacher

my tolerance I suspect is at its end

or maybe I'll learn to love the shit I'm in