Drowned in a Drought - Ghostlimb

Through wealth and time

We stand on fault lines

51 miles in the promised land

Where concrete covers up the river beds

The organized organism

Takes the steps we’d surely understand

To survive

And out of its boundaries grow

To provide

The profits reaped for all the suffering sown

The midstates arid lows

To the broken dam’s torrent flows

From the valley to the harbor

If we can’t bring it to the city

We’ll bring the city to the water