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 your stride 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 the mess you'd leave, would you? So here's to the hope How each and every rope thrown out forms bridges we can build without you How we talk in abstract terms about our grief and how it strengthens us And secretly hope that it's true Still opens wounds on your birthday Like one dumb legacy 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 the 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 still?