Waking of the Flood

It was summer '21, we were all brought to our knees When a silent river run, to grow into a beast We drank our wine, we've spent summertimes along its lovely shores And in summer '21, it took our loved ones and our homes There was ol' Pat nigh on ninety years, not one story that he wouldn't know He told them all to our young, not to forget the soil on which we grow We found old Pat on Friday morn', hung up there by the tide And not too far, a few trees down, we found his old dog by his side And all along now side by side To our nеcks in sweat and blood For all along we held so tight In thе waking of the flood There was a car 'neath Market Bridge, all cramped up and intertwined And all of us alas we did our very best not to look inside 'Cause each nick o' steel painted in its own dye, really an insult to the eye Looked almost like Miss McBride's, and we hadn't seen her in a while And all along now side by side To our necks in sweat and blood For all along we held so tight In the waking of the flood Mickey was a fairly simple bloke, soft-tempered and with empty sleeves A swept cobblestone was all it took, to break his credence and his knees He was amongst the ones that lost a loved one, or a trade That was in no way to restore, neither by hatchet, nor by spade The sea, it gives, the sea it takes, now it seems we've paid our due We'll drink our wine come summertime, and start a season new And the ones we lost, we held so tight, whose light once shone so bright In stories told defying flood and tide, they still walk by our side And all along now side by side To our necks in sweat and blood For all along we held so tight In the waking of the flood

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Feb 09, 2026