Richard Shindell - There Goes Mavis

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The beach at Newcomb Hollow 


The last days of August 


The other side of low tide 


The sun is high, the sun is high 





We’re kneeling in the wet sand 


Stopping up a wall breach 


Quick, before the next wave 


Rushes in, rushes in 





The mote around the castle 


Is filling up with water 


But hope springs eternal 


All hands ready – here it comes 





Behind us in the crowd 


Some kind of commotion 


A little girl is shouting 


Fly away! Fly away! 





But we pay no attention 


The castle is in danger 


The ramparts are sinking 


We dig on, we dig on 





Then out of the blue 


There’s an orange canary 


On our driftwood flagpole 


Shovels down Boys! – step away 





The little girl comes running 


She can’t be more than seven 


Her mother is behind her 


With a cage, with a cage 





And her mother is explaining 


Baby, it’s just too far 


And she’ll never survive here 


On her own, on her own 





But the little girl’s not listening 


She’s talking to the bird 


Mavis you can trust me 


Now’s your big chance 


Fly away! 





If Mavis has been listening 


She isn’t letting on 


We’re all just waiting 


No one moves, no one moves 





And then comes the wave 


Swamping the castle 


No one is watching 


When it falls, when it falls 





We’re following the progress 


Of a little bolt of orange 


On the long horizon 


There goes Mavis 


There goes Mavis














		
			



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