Dead Friend

You don’t worry about tomorrow anymore
Because you’re dead
Or does anything still echo?
Is there any trace left?
Well I know she still remembers
She sleeps with your picture by her bed
They shaved your face and they washed your hair clean
You were wearing the jacket that I met you in

Well how could I not have guessed
She would fall in love with the first boy
She kissed in a casket?
God damn it
God damn, I miss my dead friend

We buried your body
Into the hard Oklahoma ground
John Paul Allison, the orphan boy Pope
She waits for you to haunt her
She sleeps with your ghost at night in bed
When you died, you were only twenty-six
The most real person that I’ve ever met

Oh, your cold dead hands
Oh, your cold dead lips
Oh, your cold dead heart
Oh, your cold dead kiss