My body's stained with the proof,
of all of my regrets.
All those mistakes that I had made
I know you all wish you could forget.

I might not have lived the best one,
but I hope you remember me in stories.
And know that despite my lack of using the word,
deep down I am very sorry.

In the end, I tried my best to hold onto,
The life that I once knew.
Of coffee cups, of cigarette butts,
of and old Chevy truck named Blue.

Loved ones names came and gone
Their goodbyes all sounded the same.
I finally let go of all the sickness,
Now my body isn't in as much pain.

Like a flower blooming in the spring.
And like the trees dying in the fall.
Every body and mind have a season.
And mine has come to a stall.

Now, here I lay, in a rough white casket
Where I'm spoken of in summary.
No longer am I anything,
but a man in whose become a memory.