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Radio’s droning Dulled out by the intercom on fire Guiding the evening’s choreography Katie has her hand in a young man’s chest Stain on her white shoes that won’t wash out So usual Not even the last pair this year Down the hallway -- cries rise and fall In between the nearly constant sirens Someone turns on the news like we need it It’s just another white man with a grudge Break room sits empty Like our hearts are draining in the waiting room You think of your daughter And her wedding You know life isn’t long enough Shirt speckled red Holding onto a young girl’s hand So frail & cold So casual Not even the last one today I Wish for the fingers to count Or the memory to remember each new city Lost track so long ago Think it was around 260 They’re praying for you Everyone here is dead or dying You know there’s nothing we could do if we tried Isn’t that good enough?
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