here comes the flood....

October 13, 2025

Way back in 1993, I lived just outside Atlanta, Georgia, USA. Radio was still how we learned of random new music. Flipping around the channels late one night, I discovered a show called “Bob’s Slacktime Funhouse”, a locally-produced at Georgia Tech radio show related what turned out to be The Church of the SubGenius.

GA Tech also played the syndicated “Hour of Slack”. Bob’s Slacktime Funhouse went back and forth between Suzie the Floozy and the Lymph Node Institute.

It wasn’t the first one I heard, but one of the Lymph Node Institute shows bent a small part of my brain by playing, over the course of an hour, one cover of Stairway to Heaven after another. Who knew there could be so many different versions! Since then I have had a thing for listening to multiple icover versions of the same song. On my Facebook feed, I’ve been known to do this for a song that takes my fancy. I haven’t done one in awhile, but the result of one of them ended up on my youtube…

This morning, when the alarm went off, I told the google thingie that talks to me to play mysic by Peter Gabriel. I suppose this is technically correct, but for an hour I wasn’t listening to Peter Gabriel, technically, but one version after another of people playing mostly guitar covers of “Here Comes the Flood”… It took a little bit but i did eventually cry…

If you like, you can listen to My YouTube playlist of this song

[Verse 1]

When the night shows
The signals grow on radios
All the strange things
They come and go as early warnings
Stranded starfish have no place to hide
Still waiting for the swollen Easter tide
There’s no point in direction
We cannot even choose a side

[Verse 2]

I took the old track
The hollow shoulder across the waters
On the tall cliffs
They were getting older, sons and daughters
The jaded underworld was riding high
Waves of steel hurled metal at the sky
And as the nail sunk in the cloud
The rain was warm and soaked the crowd

[Chorus]

Lord, here comes the flood
We’ll say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent, in any still alive
It’ll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you’re running dry

Reply via email