Would you mind if I sit a bit and say a word or two?
First thanks for the seat, in this city, it’s mighty kind of you.
Oh what? You don’t know who I am?
Just a man, my friend, just a man.
But I know you, yes I do, it’s hard to believe, but it’s true.
You were the boy just down the street, the smiley child, the one I had to meet.
It seems I got to you too late though, your skin is no longer the color of snow.
Your eyes are cracked red and you’re breathing as if you were dead.
Hush, don’t say a word, listen: Your lips are dry, they no longer glisten.
Would you mind if I ramble a bit and tell you a thing or two?
First, we missed you when you left.
It seemed the sun was gone, the moon too.
Oh yeah, on us, you left you mark.
You were that good thing in the dark, striking out, into the city,
’cause those other lights were so pretty.
I heard you started downtown but somehow ended up, uptown.
You made some friends along the way, the kind that don’t know the light of day.
Why your eyes so cracked and red?
Did you know you were breathing like you were dead?
Hush boy, don’t say a word, listen: Your lips are dry, they no longer glisten.
Would you mind if I cried a bit, shed a tear or two for you?
You were so young and alive, see what the city can do?
Oh wait, where’s my handkerchief?
I’m thinking about what you did, that mischief.
What possessed you to shoot that gun?
Did it make killing easy, did it make it fun?
Or was it all that drug money that made you act all funny?
For this, you had asked for a priest.
To see a holy man before the chair, at least.
And I came to see your eyes all red before they pronounced you dead.
Hush, it’ll be over soon, listen: Your lips are dry, they no longer glisten.