The wrench I try not to feel
Coz it means I’m mentally ill if I cannot deal
With the wave that races to the shore
And it crushes everything I adore
And all are sandcastles, all are water 
I’m just a lost, lonely granddaughter 
Who may never see you again 
And you were the best of men 
Though something whispers to me that you are here
Closer than close and ever near
And I look for it in their eyes
But all I ever see is the disguise 
That hides you from me
They equate eternity
With what they can know 
With their mind, so 
I pull away
Because I know you cannot stay
Not here, not with me
You are free
And I unlock the chains 
That keep you incumbent to the rain 
And all the aching that I feel 
Is the only thing that is real
As I run to St. Pat’s 
And they dutifully hit me with baseball bats
Til I can’t feel the grief
They must replace the belief 
With a shallow kind of pain
The kind that has people squint with strain 
And say, sure isn’t that the way
But I return to the bay
As it opens out onto the Pacific 
And I have to say it’s fuckin’ terrific
And lays all my shreds bare
Til there’s nothing left to tear
And my dress may be ruined 
But I think God knows what He’s doing 
When he says to me 
I will take away the temporary 
So you can know the permanent 
How could hell be heaven sent? 

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