The Flood! (Radio Edit)

Big black city why don't you lay down your guns
Take back Sunday morning from the '70s sun
She's like a swinging hammer, solid to the core
But this ain't 1842 and this city ain't a town no more

Say my god save this mansion from the flood
Two thousand politicians dying just to shed some blood
One says okay I guess this all comes down to circumstance
I never swam before but it looks that I might get my chance

I knew a girl she was a victim of the state
Who'd lock her up and wear her down
And turn her sevens into eights
She had the blues and the rain just made it worse
Ain't is strange that when the levee broke
She was the one who'd get there first

And once the troops had reinforced the gate
We sent the 12 enlightened on a ship to find the higher state
The scientist, the poet, the hunter and the slave
But the flood became a monster and the sea became a grave

And once the pawns were standing at the guard
The flood became a prison without cigarettes or yard
In came the waters like a bad moon on the rise
Even Jesus knew what time it was I could feel it in his eyes

Now the streets are like a funeral, bodies floating by
This place is like a guillotine
Where dreams and hopes both come to die
But!
This city looks so pretty twinkling in the night
Yeah welcome to New York my god! Albert Gore was right