Stuck Between the Three
I was in the Bermuda triangle
Stuck between the three
Me, myself, and you
I heard your planes overhead
Sent up my flares
My signals of distress
Sensing nothing around
But the exalted feeling of toast
And old coffee
Food for the gods
A nine month table
To sit the cold
And the lonely
Bound by what?
Little rubber words
Dingies
That float helplessly
Out to sea
Stuck between the three
Me, myself, and you

 

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