How Many of My Friends Have to Die?

I’m standing over your coffin and I notice:
the makeup makes you look like a mannequin

Both are lifeless but still I gotta ask:
How many of my friends have to die?

How many of my friends have to die,
Before they see their families weeping?
But me, I’ll be thinking,
Because like a legend I thought you’d never die

So I have to ask:

How many of my friends have to make me cry? 

Hey you.
Yah you.
You remember me don’t you?
We grew up together.
Come on think.

We flourished under the shades of angels,
Where talent overflowed like the California rivers of yesteryear
But somewhere down the river you discovered the Devil’s potion
Sacrificing your muse for the warmth of tar.
But you.

 You taught me how to play the guitar!
And it wasn’t just that

You showed me thing I aint ever seen before
You told me that punk wasn’t about what you looked like
You told me that being punk was about what’s inside.
Deep down in your core.

 That was 15 years ago.

Now I’m wondering whose coffin will I be standing over next
Thinking whether or not the makeup will make them look like a mannequin
But unlike the mannequin this person was once full of life.

So to anyone who reads this I say do not despair
Though passions may have strained, I still care
I just got sick and tired of crying
I just want you to know there are different ways to live
Other than dying