I don't believe in heaven but i like to picture you there. The idea of you being forever gone is too much for the fragile layer of smiles I've stretched over the crumbling remains of my psyche so i try to convince myself that you're out there, hand in hand with whatever god you believed in while I stay in here hand in hand with my shadow and a bottle of liquor and I know i know I know you would hate the thought of me praying for you so i try my best not to but whenever im outside trying to find you amongst the stars I light a cigarette and find myself hoping the smoke will make its way to your side.