People try to tell me it'll be all right.
They say time will heal this gaping wound.
Someone even said I'd forget you -- in time.
That pissed me off and I wished they'd join you.
"It was his time", they tell me, as if you'd been ready.
Sixteen -- and so many loose ends.
They've told me you didn't feel a thing.
What makes them so arrogant to pretend that they know?
Someone said you were probably high and commited suicide.
I told him to shut the fuck up and walked away.
Its what I wish I could tell them all.
