Soft shell in the ghost trap waiting for a pull that never comes

Golf carts float upside down out near where the markers washed away

Rot tide tugs pilings down That dock is buoyed up by prayers alone

The outside men they talk of carbon, they talk of apes They say the waters will rise and that there is no escape Well, the waters killed the Pharaoh’s men Sometimes you have to drown the world to start it back up again

It’s his will, it’s his order One nation cried underwater

This town ain’t built upon stone Settled bones sleep through the airish ‘morn

I’ll stay, I’ll never leave Until the island is swallowed whole

All gone, swept away like a third of the stars in the heavens