I Can't Help But Think

Each night, as I lay here
getting older
Sometimes I can't help
but think of the friends
who have gone before me.

Tonight
I'm thinking of Bertie.
Once upon a time
we were really good mates.

But, as with most of my old
friends.
Drugs got in the way.

When you've all got bad drug
habits,
such fripperies like
friendship dont matter
anymore.

It's dog eat dog.
It's cop, shoot cop.

Anyway, the last time
I saw good, old Bertie
he was really skinny.

He'd always been a
chubby sort of guy.

I was truly shocked.
I asked him what the
Hell was going on.

He told me that he was dying
of cancer.

I believed him, he looked like
he'd just got out of Belsen.
He was shaking, and sweating.

As I said that was the last time
I ever saw him.

A few months later, a mutual friend
told me that he'd died.
I asked, was it cancer ?

Was it fuck
it was crack !

Well, I guess I was a bit naive
back then.

But it's still very strange.

Why not tell me the truth ?

He didn't ask me for money
or anything.

Anyway, these are the ways that I
pass my non-drinking nights.