Lament For Derwent Village
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Seven pink roses, all that I saved
Faded pink roses crumbling, pressed in the page
Last of the roses, my sweat and my blood
My beautiful garden strangled weeks in the flood
When a heart can be drowned
When strong stones so easily broken
Never more will birdsong sound
My father's stories will no more be spoken
A single memorial, the church spire remains
Cresting the water's surface, at least till today
But they're calming the dynamite, and she too must go
She'll lie with the empty graves in the deep black below
When a heart can be drowned
When strong stones so easily broken
Never more will birdsong sound
My father's stories will no more be spoken
Home is the landmarks, worn rock and marked tree
The land is your family's story, that valley was me
Seven pink roses, all that I saved
Dark tempest waters washed their strong roots away