You, blue-eyed boy with a once heavy-metal heart,
Who mimed slitting the throats of boys we now deem heartless,
Who suffocated under thick blankets of smoke in hot-boxed rooms,
Who gave beds and beer and ancient guitar picks to all who you loved

Who have you become?

You, once so full of joy,
have left your old heart behind,
crafted a new one out of felt,
and it is your darling who creates its cavities

Have you given up?

You, the boy with sad eyes,
shedding angel tears,
Who cares not for himself,
Who runs for his love,
Who dispenses coins from his mouth,
Who knows not the meaning of courage,
Whose friends left him like milk teeth

Sometimes I think I may pity you
But then I remember there's an exit door not far away
But you pass it by every Friday

And if I have one thing left to say,
It's that my heart is made from felt too,
Only I never let anyone tear it apart