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.