I stand before you as I am
as I go with the tide
You may embrace me in your arms
or elbow me aside
I may come up with decent rhyme
But outside of that verse
I'm not even a hack of a poet
I may turn out a pleasant line
But I belong with no writers
beyond that scrap of a note
as I go with the tide
You may embrace me in your arms
or elbow me aside
I may come up with decent rhyme
But outside of that verse
I'm not even a hack of a poet
I may turn out a pleasant line
But I belong with no writers
beyond that scrap of a note
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