A song about the notion of purgatory mixed with the legend surrounding St. Gertrude.


On the first night of death
The drowned sailors took a chair
At St. Gerty’s Public House
Need her spirit, need her prayers

Their arrival is strange
What’s been sought has not been found
An odd port beneath the waves
By the whirlpool they have drowned

Come find Gerty when
You’re desperately in need of a friend
You fret and she’s there
Her hope an antidote for your despair

A great tumult to expiate sin
Soul shaking exposition of lies
Beg for redemption return to calm seas
Gertrude the mystic, spirit guide