[OPEN] The tombstone had a weird choice of finish. I wondered if it would stain the surrounding. [VERSE 1] It’s always messy when you can’t clean up. The grass gets cut. You remain unattended. Fresh border. Crooked flowers. Very presentable. Nobody home. [REFRAIN] Neglect keeps well in colder weather. Come spring it starts to show. [VERSE 2] The stone isn’t lonely. That’s us projecting weather. Winter keeps the arrangement tidy. Spring makes everyone sentimental. [TURN] Carbon. Water. Heat. Habit. For a while they answered to a name. The miracle wasn’t permanence. It was that the pieces agreed to meet at all. [REFRAIN] The grass gets cut. The stain gets wider. Very seasonal. [FINAL] The stone keeps still. The weather does not. So much gathered to become one life. Then scattered. That is the grandeur. That is the loss. The ground gets the body. The universe keeps the scale of what was lost. [HARD END]
