LJI Week 11 Part 2: ♪ If the Creek Don't Rise, Then Our Sorrows Will ♪
A curse blights the land, to the north of our homes,
We live within sight, of where vampires roam,
The light of the sun, protects in the day,
The creek's flow at night, keeps the evil at bay.
The summer grows hot, the rains grow few,
As the creek's water lowers, our fears only grew.
The undead are stirring, in the caves in the hills,
If the creek don't rise, then our sorrows will.
If the creek don't rise, then our sorrows will.
Some head upstream, to search for help there,
Others fill the church, to gather in prayer.
A few sharpen spears, with death in their eyes,
Their families at home, having said their goodbyes.
No one comes back, as the day grows long,
No hope can be found, in our prayers or song,
The townsfolk cry softly, the bats cries are shrill,
If the creek don't rise, then our sorrows will.
If the creek don't rise, then our sorrows will.
We've done all we can, there's still naught but mud,
Soon they'll be coming, to feast on our blood,
The sun's goin' down, the air is still dry,
The preacher left town, he left us to die.
The world's gone dark, my soul's gone chill,
We begged to the Lord, but the heavens're still.
The rain didn't come, they close for the kill,
The creek didn't rise, now our sorrows will.
The creek didn't rise, now our sorrows will.
We live within sight, of where vampires roam,
The light of the sun, protects in the day,
The creek's flow at night, keeps the evil at bay.
The summer grows hot, the rains grow few,
As the creek's water lowers, our fears only grew.
The undead are stirring, in the caves in the hills,
If the creek don't rise, then our sorrows will.
If the creek don't rise, then our sorrows will.
Some head upstream, to search for help there,
Others fill the church, to gather in prayer.
A few sharpen spears, with death in their eyes,
Their families at home, having said their goodbyes.
No one comes back, as the day grows long,
No hope can be found, in our prayers or song,
The townsfolk cry softly, the bats cries are shrill,
If the creek don't rise, then our sorrows will.
If the creek don't rise, then our sorrows will.
We've done all we can, there's still naught but mud,
Soon they'll be coming, to feast on our blood,
The sun's goin' down, the air is still dry,
The preacher left town, he left us to die.
The world's gone dark, my soul's gone chill,
We begged to the Lord, but the heavens're still.
The rain didn't come, they close for the kill,
The creek didn't rise, now our sorrows will.
The creek didn't rise, now our sorrows will.