A knock comes at my door at this ungodly hour
I startle from my dreams, wonder, “what could this mean?”
Night birds on the porch stop their song short
Sirens scream through the oak trees
And water fills the town
From a hill above the valley I gaze in grief
Watch as my city is swept to sea
Oh St. Francis reach out your hand
But leave me here with no amends
And water fills the town
Cars hurdle and bound high ground
New California dreams are drowned
In the path that the water remembers
I lock myself up tight
Draw the curtains and turn out the light
And sit with the pain in my stomach
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