The beach at Newcomb Hollow The last days of August The other side of low tide The sun is high, the sun is high We re kneeling in the wet sand Stopping up a wall breach Quick, before the next wave Rushes in, rushes in The mote around the castle Is filling up with water But hope springs eternal All hands ready here it comes Behind us in the crowd Some kind of commotion A little girl is shouting Fly away! Fly away! But we pay no attention The castle is in danger The ramparts are sinking We dig on, we dig on Then out of the blue There s an orange canary On our driftwood flagpole Shovels down Boys! step away The little girl comes running She can t be more than seven Her mother is behind her With a cage, with a cage And her mother is explaining Baby, it s just too far And she ll never survive here On her own, on her own But the little girl s not listening She s talking to the bird Mavis you can trust me Now s your big chance Fly away! If Mavis has been listening She isn t letting on We re all just waiting No one moves, no one moves And then comes the wave Swamping the castle No one is watching When it falls, when it falls We re following the progress Of a little bolt of orange On the long horizon There goes Mavis There goes Mavis