I had the pleasure of corresponding with Dirk Powell a few months ago on various topics. He's one of those thoughtful liberals who, in spite of his politics, has a traditionalist-leaning "front porch" personality. He wrote this timely song, and here are the words:
I went out late one night,
The moon and the stars were shining bright.
Storm come up and the trees come down,
I tell you boys, I was waterbound.
Waterbound on a stranger's shore,
River rising to my door.
Carried my home to the field below,
I'm waterbound, nowhere to go.
Carved my name on an old barn wall
Or no one'd know I was there at all.
Stable's dry on a winter's night,
You turn your head, you can see the light.
Black cat crawlin on an old boxcar,
Rusty door and a falling star.
Ain't got a dime in my nation sack,
I'm waterbound and I can't get back.
It's all gone and I won't be back,
Don't believe me, count my tracks.
The river's long and the river's wide,
I'll meet you boys on the other side.
So say my name and don't forget-
The water still ain't got me yet.
Nothing but I'm bound to roam,
Waterbound and I can't get home.