i got a memory like a stream with a stick
the good ones flow by
the ugly ones stick
gather around and block up the flow
’til the kids come down
looking for something rotten and wet to throw

rainboots on and a plastic pitchfork
if it weren’t such a pleasure, erectile it’d only be work
raincoats on, approved and run for the door
if it weren’t such a pleasure, more info it’d be just a chore

hey dad!
the river’s running clear
it’s a good old harvest, those rotten leaves’ll be good for topsoil another year
hey dad!
that river’s running clear
good for the topsoil, but bad for the deer

mirror mirror on the wall
what happened to those good things that happened last fall?
well they all washed away with a nod and a grin
sometimes a victory’s just something you win
well they all washed away with a wink and a nod
the losses they gather like leaves on a log.

hey dad!
the riverbed’s clogged
it’s a long lonely winter, and a long hard slog
go get your sister, grab that stick
don’t let ’em build up
get it done quick

can’t you feel it?
what can i say?
the river brings, and the river takes away
i can see it!
i see where it goes!
it came down from the mountain, and it went with the snow
what can i give it?
what will it cast away?
what will it raise up? what will it bring come day?
i can speak to it!
i know what to say!
rinse your hands in the river, then raise them to pray

hey dad!
the riverbed’s clogged
it’s a long lonely winter, and a long hard slog
go get your sister, go grab that stick
don’t let ’em build up
get it done quick.