Hymn to the Local Gods - Shriekback

Where are the bones and the flowers?

Where are the shrines to the local gods?

They never write now or ring us

Whatever happened to the local gods?

What are their names?

Where do they live now?

Where do we go to light a candle to them now?

They held the soul of the city

The streets were bright with the local gods

The days were sweet with their meanings

The nights were vivid with the local gods

The day they left we never saw their going

We woke one morning and the world was less than it had been

In the canals and the wastelands

Up in the spires, under the flyovers

Still you can see, with the right eyes

The shining presence of the local gods

Stand in the silence you can hear them whisper

Hearing their laughter echo in the steel and stone

So leave a fire in the window

Pour the wine under the underpass

Let’s all go down to the river

We’ll go swimming with the local gods

They never died we only lost their number

All you can find here worship and more will appear