[Intro: spoken, organ stab, distant thunder rumor] River gauge climbed two feet since lunch. Somebody brought a folding table. Somebody brought gossip. [Verse 1: Southern bounce, storytelling, clear] We line up like church but the hymn is lift and drop Sandbag. Sandbag. Pass it down. Shoulders start the argument early Miss Pat shows with a casserole and work gloves Says eat first. Flood don't care about manners but I do Kids turn it into a race until somebody's wrist twists Then it gets quiet in that useful way towns invent Mayor's cousin talks too loud about federal money Nobody asks him to stack. He holds a clipboard like a shield I take the heavy end because I always do My back will invoice me Friday. I already know Radio on a tailgate says crest after midnight Numbers sound calm. The water never learned calm Dog tied to a porch rail watches like he understands elevation We laugh once. Then we stack harder [Hook: shouted/sung, clap pocket] Sandbag shift, line don't quit River wants the street, we want our shit Pass it down, shoulders burn Neighborhood math: lift, turn, learn Sandbag shift, say it proud We keep the water out and the gossip loud [Verse 2: denser, wry community] Uncle Roy argues the correct pyramid pattern He saw it on a video. He has never been right about anything else Still, we try his way for ten minutes. It holds. Damn. Teenagers film for a story then put the phones away when the wind lifts Real work hates an audience. We become a machine Gloves tear. Somebody hands me duct tape like communion Church van becomes a supply truck. Hymnals stay home I text my sister three towns over: we good, bring ice if you come She sends a thumbs up and a photo of her own sand line Whole region doing the same ugly choreography A stranger asks where to park. I point. He stacks. No speech That is how strangers become neighbors in one wet night Portable toilet arrives late and gets a standing ovation We are tired enough to clap for plumbing. Fair. [Bridge: spoken over bass and claps] Gauge hits the red mark they painted years back. Somebody whistles. Somebody swears. We do not stop. [Verse 3: stakes without horror-ghost] I think about the shop on First with the new floors Think about the apartment with the baby's crib by the window Think about my own place and the photos in a plastic bin already raised Fear is useful if you put it in a bag and throw it on the pile By two a.m. the line looks like a short ugly wall that might matter We stand back. Mud on our jeans. Pride mixed with dread If the crest lies, we did free labor for anxiety If the crest tells truth, we bought a few more hours Either way, Miss Pat's casserole is gone and the coffee is sludge I will remember the sludge more than the speeches Somebody writes a marker date on the top bag like a dare to the river We pretend that helps. Maybe it does. Superstition stacks too [Hook: shouted/sung] Sandbag shift, line don't quit River wants the street, we want our shit Pass it down, shoulders burn Neighborhood math: lift, turn, learn Sandbag shift, say it proud We keep the water out and the gossip loud [Outro: spoken, organ fade] Dawn. Gauge steady. Not down. Not up. We leave the wall standing and go home smelling like river and work.
