He hit me I felt so bad,
the friend liked most, my
fellow lad.
He was right to me when I was
wrong. He never sang the
same old song.
Full of ideas he was fun,
the pull of the trigger from his
gun.
He was my partner in crime,
but he dug a grave with a
lot of lime.
He wanted me rescued from my past,
into the ground I was cast.
The hamer pulled back, and forward went
smack.
The bullet killed the pain,
and left me dying in the cold rain.