My friend you were a model, a priceless work of art.
Boys would fashion their emotions to the pattern of you heart.
And I heard you wrote that record for a girl you loved but died.
I´m here sewing mine, together, just hoping you´re alive.
And I know you´ll never come back now to the world where people are.
´Cause you never understood what they loved you for.
Now ghosts they have their secrets, and they´ll tell them to a few.
So you can never pay attention, when they´re whispering to you.
There were many talents you possessed that I wished myself to have.
But the way your eyes would gloss over, well I never envied that.
And I doubt you´ll ever come back now from wherever it is you are.
´Cause you never understood what we loved you for.
I´m sure the T.V. sets will tell us when someone reinvents the wheel.
Till then I´ll have a million conversations about shit that isn´t real.
But I´ll try to breathe in meaning dig deep through every gasp of air.
Cause I know you did the same thing for as long as you can bear.
I guess everything just circles ´round to where it was before.
So I hope I´ll see you soon in some other form.