I've shrugged myself away since three years ago
Always wanting to change away from too much innocence
Wanting to know more about what others did
But now I've learned too much.

I want to be able to go back and cry on the sleeve of myself
And tell him to stay young forever
Tell him to not worry about the future and life
And how big your genitals are.

Tell him never to smoke or drink to death
Tell him to never yell at your angel mother
Or take for granted what keeps you warm at night
And love your friends with a peaceful mind.

Farewell, another part of the child
That once never needed an herb to have fun
He crumbles like the ash on a dusty page
Burned by the lighter of irrational maturity.