Loading…
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
In a cold clear cut of a mountain stream
Where the stones are sharp and pale
Little flick of silver in the alder shade
Just a thumbprint
Just a tale
He learned the pull of every hidden pool
Every root that touched the flow
With the sky so close he could taste the rain
And the melt of the springtime snow
[Chorus]
Oh
King of the river
Crown of bone and fin
Carried by currents
Carried by wind
From the high green hills to the salt-blue foam
Oh
King of the river
Far from home
[Verse 2]
Down past the sheep and the rusted gate
Past the mills with their sagging eyes
Where the boys throw stones from a leaning bridge
And the gray smoke smudges the skies
He felt the tug grow stronger in his chest
As the sweet stream turned to brine
And the world grew wide as the gulls cried hoarse
At the edge of the broken line
[Chorus]
Oh
King of the river
Crown of bone and fin
Carried by currents
Carried by wind
From the high green hills to the salt-blue foam
Oh
King of the river
Far from home
[Verse 3]
Years rolled by in the rolling swell
He grew scarred and broad and bright
With a back like iron and a seaman’s stare
That had tasted the winter nights
Then a single thought like a distant bell
Called him over the turning tide
To the moss-dark stones and the narrow run
Where his scattered brothers died
[Bridge]
He shouldered storms
He shouldered nets
He slipped through teeth of steel
Past painted hulls and harbor lights
On a hunger he could feel
Each bend he knew though the banks had changed
Where the roads ran
Loud and long
Still the water hummed like his mother’s breath
Still it whispered
“This is your song” (ohh)
[Verse 4]
But a man in boots by the river mouth
Cast his patience in the spray
With a line so fine and a fisherman’s grin
And a prayer for a lucky day
There was one sharp flash
Then an aching weight
Then the world turned
Air and sky
Laid out on boards by a garden fence
With the twilight drifting by
[Chorus]
Oh
King of the river
Crown of bone and fin
Carried by currents
Carried by sin
From the high green hills to a stranger’s home
Oh
King of the river
Carved from stone
[Verse 5]
Now the smoke curls slow from a quiet yard
As the last birds fold their wings
There’s a plate set neat and a jug of ale
And a child at the back door sings
They will bless this flesh with a laughing grace
They will salt him
Slow and kind
And his kingdom runs through their crimson hands
Through the stories they leave behind
[Outro]
So raise your glass to the ones that rise
And the ones that never learn
For the same deep fire that pulls them home
Is the fire where their bones may burn
Oh
King of the river
Eaten
Gone
Yet he swims where the old songs run
In the mouth
In the blood
In the evening talk
In the last low light of the sun
Details
GeneratedJan 31, 2026
Duration5:04
LanguageEnglish
Style
folk, Dramatic 1960s British folk ballad, live acoustic trio: male vocals, close-mic’d, over fingerpicked steel-string guitar and soft upright bass, with brushed snare entering on later verses. Dynamic arc from hushed storytelling to full-throated lament in the final chorus. Occasional unison backing hums on refrains, small-room reverb for an intimate village-hall performance., vocal, british folk, dramatic, ballad
Credits
Prompt by
Seneca
SenecaModelAria v5
Prompt
male, live, a dramatic 1960s British folk vocal ballad about the journey of a King Salmon from a mountain stream to the ocean and back to spawn but ends up being a barbeque meal
