"I twist my heart round again, so that the bad is on the outside, and the good is on the inside.  And I keep on trying to find a way of becoming what I would so like to be, and what I could be, if there weren't any other people living in the world." 

Nobody heard him, the dead man,

But still he lay moaning:

I was much farther out than you thought

And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking

And now he's dead

It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,

They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always

(Still the dead one lay moaning)

I was much too far out all my life

And not waving but drowning.