it's been fun, still there will always be the past maybe i can crawl inside it like those muddled in the freezing wood slit open a horse carcass to survive late at night maybe i'll lie there tasting the drip of equine blood listening to you laugh it's as sweet a future as any we might have shared, at least there is no longer anything you could do to stop the way i love you matting my hair and i'll reek of entrails forever
to friends leaving even when you've done your very best, let's raise a glass of blood spilled directly from your chest