09. A Hymn of Floodwater

*Keep your hands above your head

Keep your hands above your head!

Oh, your hands may be dirty

But don't let them sink below again

Keep your hands above your head

Keep your hands above your head!

Oh. your hands may be dirty

But wash them in the sink instead*

Well I had to burn the bark

And I watched the sparks illuminate

As the sun wound down I saw my skin dull with age

The warmth from the flame's

Been converted into ash

And I fear this scribbled map

Has gone sour a few miles back

Maybe this wandering

Is a stage for strange comeuppance

In the perfect inferno

I'd never be able to tell the difference

If I'm present within these woods

I must have sprung somewhere

And it's clear the clearing up ahead

Is a place for my route to be repaired

Lit by the morning,

It's time to rectify my quest

All this harbored grief and near repose

Are about to intersect

The view beyond the glade

Shows the flood will still sprawl

But if that's where I stand

I don't want to know where I'll fall