I'm a boy on morning beaches running from the hand that feeds him,
It's a damn shame how much I complain,
But it would never do to wait on you,
And it's so nice to have the space that keeps me young.
So let me go; I'm making mine,
All I can hold I'll steal from the punchbowl,
If the tide takes me out, well then I asked for it,
I'm drawing up a waiver; watch me sign it,
Do you even care at all what I'll become?
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