The working stabbing undertaking of the speckled in the world survive,
Somehow,
And people sweating in the sand are pressing dirty fingers in the land,
The swirling blackness of the creature mother calls the sea is in disguise,
It’s blueness, sparkling over-reaching surface is just mocking our own hands,
These oiled glances on the TV dripping with the madness of our skins,
And dirty waters rise to meet the people on the shore surprise,
Little fishes bubble upside down to the surfaces above the ground,
We grieve,
While the wheels of all our melting diesel run through tubes fading out,
The river will rise and meet us all on the other side,
The other side,
The river will rise and meet us all on the other side,
The other side,
And teacher preaching to the masses tell us of the stories of our past,
We hear,
And dream of all the settled people growing simple lives out of the ground,
We’re wishing hoping for the things that make us certain fingers are alive,
While ice is melting steadily creeping down the cracks of soft faded earth,
The river will rise and meet us all on the other side,
The other side,
The river will rise and meet us all on the other side,
The other side