i lost some friends the past few years.
i gave most away, you were stolen from me.
if i’m the next one to go too soon i’ve got a few things left i want to say.
i want to drive and never come home.
i want to lie and never be known as a liar as a thief as a man who just grits his teeth through a forty hour week.
if you’re the next one to go too soon, is there anything left you want to say?
am i living this life or is this the flash before my dying eyes.