I asked you how he's doing the day before he died
You said, "He's doing fine, we're all just doing fine"
About a week ago I watched his body lowered down
Now no one's doing fine and I am less and less around
I'm sick to death and scared that I might actually be the culprit
I didn't spend much time with him and no one seemed to notice
His lust for life was squandered when he lost his loving friends
Believe he actually was a corpse before his life had ended
The final letter seemed despondent, as if he wasn't there
One more summer and you could have been amongst the world you feared
You were happy
Don't understand how it could all be fake
Your smile glowing but your eyes reflected shame
Sorrowful and somber-filled, your family didn't help
Your sister was the one with issues that they had to deal with now
Now life is but a memory and death is in full swing
Your skin that held together bone is promptly decaying
Family gathered 'round to see an issue unresolved
Why couldn't you have told a friend that might've helped it all?
"Identify the body," the father pleaded so
All that laid was flesh no longer occupied a soul
Delicate and calm, the father witnessed his son's fate
The bullet hole that entered had an exit just the same
I've been wrapping these tragedies in plastic and throwing them away
Amidst the trash that I inhabit
It's madness, it's tragic
I'm clogging up my feelings with this sickness that is sadness
I asked you how he's doing the day before he died
You said, "He's doing fine, we're all just doing fine"