Just last night
he gave himself a fright
A little blood on the floor
A silhouette across his door

Blood seeping out...
Out and about
His face is pale,
And his body: frail

Knife in hand
A smile on his face: grand
Good 'ol Lewis is dead
On his good 'ol soft bed

So see him lifeless
See his unorthodox happiness
As the silhouette exits
Out of those forsaken derelicts...

He left a note on the floor saying:
"For the record, this is no slaying.
This is merely the right way of helping him.
For it is not right to leave your best friend in  whim.

So just face the fact,
that he isn't coming back.
Good 'ol Lewis is dead
And be thankful, you weren't at his stead."