A Question of Degree

Once a question of degree
Now circumstances corner me
Demanding my attention
Leaving little choice

Posing several questions

Distilling in one 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 surel) 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

Can I really manage
To survive outside?
Can I really manage
To survive outside?
Can I?
Can I?
Can I?
Can I?