Oh little girl, the water feels so good.
It's merry here, the sirens hum so softly.
The water's rising, the sirens still sing,
but I can still hear nothing.
The preacher is coming by
with some things he'd like to sell.
Like Salvation for a nickle,
but there are other things he'd rather buy.
Oh little girl, come play in the street.
The city is merry in its fervor.
The sirens wail, and the city walks in its drunkeness,
but it's quiet unless you listen.
Something shiny for the offering plate,
walk your hand along the rails.
Ask the preacher to explain,
and he'll lean down to whisper in your ear.
Oh little girl, come meet me by the sand dunes.
It's lovely today in August.
Only the sea gulls notice the sirens,
because the little girl is quiet in the sea.