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作曲 : Hamell on Trial
I was checking my balance on Chase book
Seems I got a private message on Facebook
Should get used to this stuff from gettin' older, still
I Deny my mortality, I probably never will
You were skinny as a rail, smokin' Salem menthol green
Reservation caught and smokin' like a fiend
We were doin' acid when we were fifteen
Music in my bedroom, Hendrix, Creem
They say the cancer tore through your frame
I had to quit doing drugs but there ain't no blame
I lost touch with you, and that's a shame
The mirror says I changed, but I feel the same
Remember you dated that guy wrote in for Hair on Broadway?
He found Jesus tussing in an odd way
Naked in the snow was his plan
He froze to death, Jesus saves, but not on demand
Makeup in our teens to look like Bowie
Runnin' from the cops, on the go, see
Hidin' pot in our locker until there's a raid
Gettin' three new albums 'cause we just got paid
I lost touch with you as the years rolled on
I shoulda reached out but now you're gone
I feel you smilin', guidin' my walk
Your pain's over now, I wish we could talk
And you're gone now
I shoulda reached out
You're gone now
I shoulda reached out
My old friend
...
Trippin' with you in my parents' bedroom
Took a while to kick in, then it hit our heads, boom
Order pizza, when it came, our appetites beat
The pepperoni screaming "Don't eat meat"
Your brother bleeding everywhere, tooth through his lip
Happened at the state fair when he tried to do a flip
He wouldn't go to the ER, he was tweakin' in his head
You gave him homemade stitches and you nursed him instead
Workin' at the guitar place, you come down and see me
Talk about our parents, my mother had the DTs
Blood on the walls until they rushed her
And they brought her to St. Joe's and the mother****ers hushed her
Your father losin' the rent, bettin' at the track
You were laughing, your mama screaming "Don't come back"
He come back when he won, she beat him like a spastic
You had nine kids, Catholics don't use prophylactics
Well the time's beat now, shootings everywhere
Arrowing's the rage and the kids don't care
There ain't no jobs, poverty's ballistic
Poorest per capita, it's a national statistic
So you're in a better place, the end to your pain?
And I make it to heaven, I won't see you again
Up there you're smilin', smokin' your butt
I'll make you laugh again though, I feel it in my gut
A couple of doobie jokes, maybe a funny story
Hear me screamin' it up from purgatory
You're gone now
I shoulda reached out
Yeah, you're gone now
I shoulda reached out
My old friend
...
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