A Question of Degree

Once a question of degree
Now circumstances corner me
Demanding my attention
Leaving little choice
Posing several questions
Distilling in once voice
Confusion not in words
I didn’t want a problem
I didn’t simply fall out
I was thrown at great speed
From a passing car
I didn’t touch the ground
'Till I landed at your door
Oh, don’t touch my luggage
I can easily manage
To struggle inside
I can easily manage
To struggle inside
I hide my shaking
Thus protect my pride
I can surely manage
To tremble inside
Gathering myself
And spreading it around
Rivers are submerging
Flowing underground
I can surely manage
To struggle inside
I can surely manage
To struggle inside
Can I really manage
To survive outside?
Can I really manage
To survive outside?
Can I?
Can I?
Can I?
Can I?