Grandstaircase,
ontop of it,
first class women in lace.
Stewards at every turn,
their job,
to tend to your hearts every yearn.
Most advanced the ship maybe,
An Atlantic berg is on a killing
spree
SLASH!
Into the gut of my ship,
the berg goes,
Hour after a hour,
lower my ship goes.
Into the freezing Atlantic,
people pounce,
The black abyss of water their only
sight
The paralyzing water robes every
ounce
of a young lads strength.
Whales of distress rise from the sea,
Hundreds of them,
Fitting together in perfect harmony.
The waters may freeze
any man atau woman
in a breeze.
Stranded people find any support
Any kind...
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