Breaking the stone, a thousand years, an underfall.
The water's edge is closer than you think,
Surface tension falling as the air is taken in.
Beneath the walls, all light has gone,
Like the passage of a mine whose seam is unknown.
He worked each drift by hand alone,
Sand and water and blood and stone.

He hadn't much of a story to tell,
Just how he stopped the walls from falling.
Making a stand, made solid ground.

Two worlds apart, the people say their sunday prayers.
Music fills the vaulted space;
The organ covers up the hammer falls.
But the water's edge is closer than you thing,
You can see it in his staring eyes, the dripping shell,
The lower parts of hell are just beneath you.