The burning in my side may be explained by guilt or by pride. Or could it be, without my knowing so, the tangible feeling of questions unanswered? I can't let it go.

What is the meaning of all this mess? What's wrong with this place? The masses flood to the gates, all with the same purpose in mind: put pressure on rotting support beams the levy will go.

Here comes the flood, bring it on. Here comes the flood, bring it on.

The sickness that plagues this land cannot be cured by the same hands of those who I'd call the host. They kiss with open mouths. Our immunity's growing, resistance is what they would fear most.

Here comes the flood, bring it on. Here comes the flood, bring it on. Here comes the flood, bring it on. Here comes the flood, bring it on.

Rotting or glowing, I don't want to die without know why. Rotting or glowing, I don't want to die without know why.

Here comes the flood, bring it on. Here comes the flood, bring it on.

The rain from above will bring on the floods. Bring it on.