His mother smoked Diamonds while he was at school,
And after blocking out those who would rule,
He liked to get high and remember the summer,
When times were better.

He wore his pajamas most of the time,
He wore his long sleeves to hide late night red stripes,
Because the pain it felt better than too much of nothing.

The robins wait for spring and he waits for his release,
He's jealous of their bodies that rise above the grief,
If he could fly away and look down,
Well it might get better.

He might sing a happy song or hum a happy tune,
His smile would walk in and light up the room
but this knot in his stomach is heavy,
It weighs him down.

They ask him whats wrong and he says I don't know.
They say nut-up kid, at least you've got a good home,
Your melodramatic ******* is bringing us down.

Some think that he's strong 'cause there's weight in his eyes,
Some think that he's special for the way that he cries,
But he is frail, he is fading, he is falling,
Faster than ever.

All the friends that he had,
They were his angels.
All The friends that he has.
They are his angels.