Hey, I got nothing to say we just watched him drink his life away. Now here we are December 8th, a wooden box with his remains. You always said remember better days, we’re here again December 8th. With the calls and the letters I sent you, with no return. The anger in my heart grew until I learned. We just can’t chase these ghosts away, tomorrows always a better day. Tonight we drink ourselves to sleep, we’re here again December 8th. With the drinks and the beers we spilt, was in your name. And the way that it all happened, we’re not the same. Take back the things that I said, I can’t believe you’re dead. I’d give my life for it to be me.

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