The Deep's Old Song
(Verse 1)
The gulls cry sharp o'er Kingsmouth town, the nets are cast anew,
Old Man Hemlock’s boat goes out, as all the fisherfolk do.
He checked his phone for weather bright, a blue sky overhead,
But swore he heard a distant chime, from ocean's salty bed.
Oh, the deep, the deep, it keeps its own,
And silence breaks with a watery moan.
(Verse 2)
The morning mist, it hung so thick, you couldn't see your hand,
Old Hemlock felt a sudden pull, not fish upon the sand.
A heavy chain, adorned with rust, came up from waters cold,
And on its links, a barnacled bell, with stories left untold.
Oh, the bells, the bells, they ring so deep,
While secrets of the sunken sleep.
(Verse 3)
He brought it back to shore with haste, the townsfolk gathered 'round,
That bell, it wasn't made of brass, nor gave a joyful sound.
It pulsed with light, a sickly green, then vanished in the air,
And in its place, a chill wind blew, a shadow of despair.
Now every morn, at break of day, the folk hear distant chimes,
And check their phones for messages, from forgotten, watery times.
Oh, the chimes, the chimes, they call below,
To where the currents ebb and flow.
Collected from a recording device salvaged from a derelict shanty on Solomon Island, near the docks of Kingsmouth. Identified as a local folk song, circa 2024.