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