I don't want to listen to you talk about a dead boy
His mother must be in tears
And his father staring into nothing
Trying to find the soul of the one he lost
I'm sorry for them
I truly am
I just don't want to listen to you talk about it
You have this way of talking like you knew them
Well, of course you did.
His mother cut your hair
And his dog bit your daughter
So of course you knew them all
But you could not tell me why
That boy was drinking last night
Or why he was driving too fast
You couldn't give me that
And I couldn't care less that his body is dead
But with every word that leaves your mouth
The idea of him
Keeps withering away
Because I doubt anyone truly knew him

What other reason would a 19 year old
Have for drinking and driving too fast?