Jean

You should've turned thirty this year You should've been pursuing an art career You would've made a great civil engineer You could've won championship rings You could've stuck with the drums, I'd sing You could've been so many things

They let a brilliant mind like yours Waste away behind a locked door Two and a half weeks Four walls And a cold concrete floor And you spoke three languages But there's no talking your way out of this I know I wouldn't have lasted as long as you did

I haven't Been in the same room Since I was twenty-three I always Thought I'd see you Again eventually

And the last time we spoke I was chasing you down for money you owed I don't have a rhyme for this I'm just ashamed Too broke to fly to the service Never seen the plot you're buried in But I think about you every day

And I haven't Been in the same room Since I was twenty-three And I always Thought I'd see you Again eventually

Like something On TV Catch up like old friends Over coffee But sometimes There's no cut scenes Or resolutions Just endings