| My brother graduated college in spring
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| And we were both living back home
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| In the town we were raised in
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| For the summer
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| One afternoon, we went swimming
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| On the lake across the street
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| With a couple of friends
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| By the house where my roommate my freshman year grew up
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| On a whim or a dare
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| We decided to see if we could try and flip
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| His parents' 300 pound swim raft
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| The four of us stood at each corner
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| Like they were the ends of the earth
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| And began to rock the vessel back and forth
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| It moved slow, as if it’s body ached from old age
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| Then stood up like a skyscraper
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| Before crashing back to earth, scattering us like debris
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| We plunged into the water like stones
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| My brother and Dan surfaced first
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| And probably aged a year for every second
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| Before Pat and I came back up
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| We couldn’t flip it back over
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| So it just sat there like a turtle stuck on it’s shell |