The Burning and the Flood

saw ‘em coming,
they passed me by without a glance
they kept going,
they held torches in their hands
blood-soaked blacktop
rain-softened concrete
pave their way,
as the river turns black
peasants in their fields
witness castles crumbling down
and my king and my queen stand weeping on their hill
as they watch it all
burn
then blood grows poisonous
don’t feel pain, though pain is all I know
like a kid that pawns his own guitar but
keeps his rusty strings
with time the river turns blue again
quenches it all away
kid buys his guitar back and
those strings still ring
peasants in the fields
light fires and dance the night away
and my king and my queen,
minds and hearts set on the new day
remembering how
it all burned