He looks at you as if to say «We Are At Home In The Body»
But when we’re alone in the lobby it’s hard to find anything to say
There’s no comfort in stained glass or pictures of organs we all have
When it’s just you struggling against the hospital bed
Fighting with myself not to make a memory of this moment
Nothing is worse than long goodbyes
I don’t know how we watch the ones we love die and forget to remember them alive