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