To the Death

I need a spell to stop my friends from feeling guilty every time they talk about you
How every subject led to the last words that they might have said, it’s like I’ve lost a part of them too
So I talk to you
I need a drink
I need the distance that the daylight brings to drift into the sleep I lose each night
Your boys parade their sorrows, say there’s nothing that they could have done, and I hate myself for thinking they’re right
So no more songs about suicide
Break the swagger in yr stride
And here’s to the death
To the holes in whatever’s left
If we’re supposed to make the most of every moment, how come all the memories I keep are shrapnel sharp, embedded deep?
If you could see this mess you’d leave, would you still?
So here’s to the hope
How each and every rope thrown out forms bridges we can build without you
We talk in abstract terms about our grief and how it strengthens us, and secretly hope that that’s true
Still opens wounds on yr birthday
That’s one dumb legacy
And here’s to the death
To the holes in whatever’s left
If we’re supposed to make the most of every moment, how come all the memories I keep are shrapnel sharp, embedded deep?
If you could see this mess you’d leave, would you still?
Yeh would you still?
And oh-my-god
How come all the memories I keep are shrapnel sharp, embedded deep?
If you could see this mess you’d leave, would you?