The Sorry Thing

While reading: Spotify Apple Music

The sorry thing about memorial parks 

Is that there's nothing left to pray for 

And the further in you move 

The more you feel- there's someone 

You should be bargaining with 

Sometimes, you'll find your own last name 

A sobering realization 

And you'll start praying for yourself 

Eventually it trails off 

And you are lifting up strangers 

That have long had their fate decided 

I'm not sure why I'm crying 

Maybe because I live in an apartment 

Where I'm stuck between a corpse

And a man who gave up on me 

Maybe because I couldn't find his name 

Maybe because I couldn't find your face 

I think a glimpse would have settled it 

But Christ wasn't listening today 

There's a flower policy listed in the grass 

No wreaths unless he's freshly dead 

No plastic planted in the ground 

Must be in the iron vases 

I'm in the garden every morning at 10 

Wondering if you'll ever pass through 

Stuck between flower policies and apartments 

I asked, should I be worried 

Worried about the end 

I was reassured I should not be 

We were alright

We were alright 

In the end I went out alone 

And in the next end, I'll go out alone again too 

But I was so sure I was okay the first time 

So what about the grand finale 

The sorry thing about you and I 

Is that there's nothing left to pray for 

I'm bargaining 

Maybe I am asking for something that has long had its fate decided.