It's early Thursday of the world
And we are hard at work
For days we drove through fires
And floods west with the wind
So we could sit and stare at the sea
With hundreds of others supine
Or celebrative mostly the children
Or walkers overwhelmed by the waves
Swept out and tossed back again
We've come to peer over the threshold
Into the abyss of a sunny day
Troubled and peaceful and weary
And for once with nothing to say
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