There's a spot on your coat
And a frog in your throat
You haven't combed your hair
Or made your bed in months

Your days and your nights are all the same
Filled with a lack of desire and hint of shame
You've paced trails on all the floors of this house
You haven't been outside in weeks

The weight of those boulders
You carry on those shoulders
Would've cracked a lesser man in half
After an hour or two.

Now you're standing here in front of me
And the others here to see
Just what a mess you've left to clean up
Isn't this fun?

You're no good
To anyone
You mope around wearing other people's clothes
When you've got a closet full of your own fresh ones

Son!
You're no good to anyone
Nope.
No way.
No how.

You're a flicker
in a dying fire
A broken heart
and a lost desire
A blown out
trailor tire
The last ember
In a funeral pyre

Son.
You're no good to anyone
Not like this
Please...don't let it end like this...
Not like this....