Sons of the Drowned Hall

Intro

Hollow Vine took the hall in sixty-one

Grandfather said the water don't lie

I still carry the ledger, still carry the sum

Sons of the drowned hall, standing dry

Verse

Valley called Hollow Vine, cupped like a prayer in stone

Granddad's lodge sat lowest, river ran it a loan

Brass bell rung Sunday mornings, ledger kept every name

Who paid dues, who got buried, who carried the flame

State came through with a map, said the dam had to rise

Told the whole town relocate, gave us thirty-one nights

Moved the graves up the ridge but left the hall in its place

Watched the water climb the doorframe, watched it swallow the face

Granddad rowed back at midnight, took the bell off the hook

Left his coat in the rafters, brought home only the book

Ledger soaked through the spine but he dried it by the stove

Said the names don't wash off easy, said the water don't know

Built a new hall on the hilltop, same stone, different creek

Kept the drowned one's number painted on every beam and seam

Thirty years I've been carrying keys to a door underwater

Every dollar that I count, I'm counting for my father