Orijinal sözler
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The drowning man doth clutch at straws
While he breathes through open pores
His thoughts rush back
To daring God to show his face
And giving back his daily grace
To show he is Man
Fortunes of war pass through his head
And images of comrades dead
Forgive us all our trespasses
As we do not forgive
Enough to see the straws for us
And all our thoughts rush back
