How often do you look back? Really reflect on what you’ve done? The insignificance of it all; pointless arguments, inside jokes, funny haircuts. But do you ever wonder how you’ll be remembered? Or if what you’ve done or what you’re doing means anything at all? What will your songs sound like when you’re dead and gone? Will tears fall when the last note is sung? And how will your story be told? Will your words leave a bitter taste in their mouths? Or will they even remember you at all?

cause for all we know we might be dead by tomorrow.

You’ve seen my best turn to the worst. I’ve dragged you right down with me.