They stole your book but you didn’t mind

You were too busy making friends on the playa

Being the player and playing your games in the face of the fire

And that vest never fit you but god damn you looked so good in everything you wore

Even in your own skin I could have swore that you were wearing an outfit

And I’ll never forget how you showed me those photos of all the bruises they made

And the way that you tasted each day on the tip of your tongue

Oh lord, a sweet drop of rain

We slept on the floor of that tent, like babes in the woods

In the arms of our

Great, earthen mother

All alone but we had each other

And you whirled me around

In the darkness, in the loud, in the sound, in the places where no words come out

And only footsteps pound, in the dust in the dirt, in the the grass, in the earth

In the mass and the mirth, and as we grow and grow

And we twist and we turn and we swear we don’t know

Cos we love playing dumb

It gives us an excuse to make

Conversation

We would have queued but there wasn’t room

For 3 more wise men to come and say goodbye to you

Cos half the world and his dog and his burlesque girl

They showed up that day to pay tribute

And my god do they miss you

You were always that friend I said I’ll be in touch with til one of us is dead

And you’ll meet my babies, we’ll drink whisky on my patio

Forever smoking in the cold

You should have grown old

You should have grown old

Be well brother

Be well brother

Be well brother

Be well brother

And I’ll never forget how you showed me those photos of all the bruises they made

And I’ll never forget how you showed me those photos of all the bruises they made