I'm fairly certain there is no Heaven.
I still think of you there.

I like to imagine you standing on a cloud
looking down at us.

And you asking Kurt for a light on
your cigarette

And you telling everyone the story
of how we met

And you asking god all those
questions you wondered about

I bet you sing so out of key it ****** all
the other angels off.

I bet you regret your decision
I know I do

Above all else I sure as Hell
like to think you're missing me.