The levee held ‘til it didn’t anymore
We watched from the roof as the water tore
Through picture frames and unspoken plans
It took the couch, the porch, the wedding bands
You smiled like someone who already knew
That all of this life comes loose from the glue
I lit a match just to see your face
And we laughed like it wasn’t all being erased
And I go into the flood again
Wading through the weight of where we’ve been
There’s a part of me that still can’t swim
But I go in, yeah, I go in
Into the flood again
You left your boots by the cellar stair
Said, “Some things drown, and some just wear”
I took the long way back through town
Past the field where we first laid down
The trees remember, but the roads forgot
And the wind writes names that the mail does not
But I still feel you like a river bend
Turning back to the place it ends
So I go into the flood again
Chasing what was never mine to defend
There’s a silence in the undertow
Where you let go, yeah, you let go
And I went into the flood again
I tried to build a higher ground
With borrowed bricks and second sounds
But every time it rains like this
I swear I hear your voice in it
So I go into the flood again
Not to forget, but to feel again
I keep the light on in case you call
But it flickers, like it knows it all
Still I walk where the water’s been
Into the flood again
Yeah, I go in… into the flood again