A

star-

ling

phone

call

led

to

a

night

of

lit-

tle

sleep,

Coun-

ting

bles-

sings

in-

stead

of

sheep.

We

ga-

thered

the

next

mor-

ning.

Re-

ne-

wing

a

bond

weak-

ened

by

years

of

se-

pe-

ra-

tion

and

through

our

worlds

had

slow-

ly

drif-

ted

a-

part.

The

ear-

ly

me-

mories

we

shared

still

re-

mained

time-

less

in

our

hearts.

There

was

a

time

when

we

clo-

sely

fol-

lowed

each

oth-

ers

foot-

steps,

dream-

ing

of

end-

less

sum-

mer

and

be-

co-

ming

drum-

mers.

Those

days

are

gone.

We

mourn

the

loss

of

a

child-

hood

friend

rapped

in

a

mans

fa-

ding

in-

tel-

lect.

So

long,

let

these

tears

wash

a-

way

the

blood

on

your

hands.

So

long,

you're

for-

gi-

ven

for

eas-

ing

her

pain.

I

can

still

pic-

ture

the

a-

part-

ment

where

it

took

place.

We

used

to

play

ho-

urs

down-

stairs,

beat-

ing

drums

and

hit-

ting

snares.

Em-

brace

those

times

to

en-

dure.

That

day

felt

like

your

fu-

ne-

ral.

Un-

til

we

meet

a-

gain,

you

will

ne-

ver

be

for-

got-

ten.