Once, there was a boy, who played the guitar so well,
              he played love songs
And all of his friends would sing along,
              just because… he played so well
And he drew people alone and showed them to his friends,
And they would tell him how good he was,
               but needed improvements
And he’d nod with approval
And he stared at a girl at school from a distance
               but the girl wouldn’t look back
And he told his friends he had asthma,
               so all of them knew
               and everyone was there for him

One day, in an open field, he played the guitar again,
               he played songs about friendship
And almost all of his friends sang along,
               and he played really well
The next day, he drew alone again and showed it to his friends,
And his friends would say how he did improve,
               but needed more of it
And he’d nod with a smile
And he’d look at the girl at school from a distance
               but the girl was already looking at him
Occasionally, his breathing got harder,
               his friends would worry
               so he would be sent home earlier

In school, his friends sang on stage while he played the guitar,
               they sang a song about misery
And the audience would sing along,
               even though, they didn’t sing so well
And he drew other things and showed them to his friends,
And his friends would tell him he drew things better than people,
               and told him to draw more things
And he’d nod satisfied
And the girl he gazed from a distance fall in love with him
               so he asked her to be his girlfriend
He knew how to deal with his asthma
               so it’s not much of a problem
               even though they’re not always there

After graduation, he’d play the guitar alone sometimes,
               he played songs for his friends
And he’d imagine them sing along,
               and loved it even they didn’t sing so well
And he stopped drawing because there was no one to show them,
And no one would tell him what he should do next
               and he missed them
He was alone all the time
And his girl, like his friends, was also busy and they were rarely together
               he was more alone than ever
At seven o’clock in the morning, his asthma attacked,
               the worse kind, so he didn’t knew how to deal with it
               nobody was there to help him
And on his last breath,
               he was more alone than ever…