Hold, hold him close,
Hold him tight, he’s not that old.
& water rises over mountains now.
Sat in his place, not a mark upon his face.
I’ve heard they’re walking miles and miles each day.
I’ll sing him the songs, that my father used to play.
& the blackbirds never did much anyway.
Oh, button up, stand up tall, today’s your day
& though it’s come, this rain is far too late
And what are those seams,
That tie my life to his?
Is it a scar or is it a bridge?
Hold what you have,
Hold what you have
Lies, full of lies
& there’s a darkness in his eyes.
Oh Eliza, tell me straight,
Do you ever think we’ve made a mistake?
Standing, staring, caught out by the might,
Of moving water coming.
But those visions, are only in the mind,
Surely we’re still alright?
Our lady, with sirens in the night,
Paints us all like we’re blind.
And what are those dreams,
That bind my life to his?
It’s a scar but also a bridge.