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 pa** through his head
And images of comrades dead
Forgive us all our trespa**es
As we do not forgive;
Enough to see the straws for us
And all our thoughts rush back