Cry me a river or help me make my puddle become the mighty sea again!

I thought there’d be plenty of it. Now I can touch the ground of the barrel. Just some drops left. What was once so much you thought you’d drown in it has become a puddle. Doesn’t even cover my toes anymore. The plenty has left.

(Use our remains wisely. Just 8 tiny spots left. Please use them wisely. Enormously the thirst.)

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