Tayama

Mary

The cracks get wider from the dry empty air...

Desolate headstones in disrepair...

Doesn\'t anyone care?

Can it really be 7 years?

Never hearing...Good Morning Dear...

People shy away now when I\'m near...

Often with a tear...

Can they ever feel what I feel?

Always a sadness that I might never again?

I was never supposed to go first...

I miss you like a constant thirst...

Loving you was a gift I never felt worthy of...

Then you were gone, and of course I then knew...

My foolishness to presuppose that I would wake each day to you...

Green eyes that could be blue...

As they cried in our joy and pain...

Or like a little girl when it rained...

This bench is becoming my home...

As I ache into my bones...

Mary, I don\'t want to be here anymore...

I miss my meaning each day to adore...

My Mary...

Who I would carry, when she could not walk...

Then no longer talk...

So, I spoke for us as 1...

On this bench baked by the sun...

At the end you were always so cold...

And I would hold...

The girl that I loved...

When once I whispered to her to be mine, as I dare be so bold...

Im tired Mary, so tired...

Can I come home?