The Ocean Can't Consume the Coast Soon Enough I used to walk by the house where they lived In the empty months after the crash Tasting the tang of hospital coffee Smelling the freedom of funeral ash When the flowers we sent become layers of coal When our days together all just slip through our grip When those urns open up and let loose furloughed souls When memorial hymns keep their names off our lips No simple song can bring them back A discolored tide coming in Familiar faces with bodies of sharks Eviction notices flutter like wings Is that a poisonous breeze in the dark When the last house on the bay is reclaimed by the bank When the storm surge drives seawater over the wall When retired mall cops are left manning the tanks When my name doesn't mean anything good at all No simple song will bring me back