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?