I played prodigal for the story,
I came home and was proud of it.
I played cops and robbers
And made sure that my side would always win.
Not for nothing, but my cards
Were always face up on the draw.
Oh god I wish you could have seen it
When I sang that awful song:
“So if I die, let me die
With a shotgun by my side
So everybody knows how hard I fought to live,
And let them write my name backwards
On a banner over the square.
I want every last one to look at it.”

Then I would call myself out bleeding,
“look at the devil that I’ve slain.”
Nobody left to paint my picture,
So I guess I’ve lost my game.
And I would make sure you could see me,
I would shiver while I prayed.
A little hair of the dog while I’m waiting for God
Just to dig the tomb I crave.
So if I die, let me die,
Just go ahead and take my spine,
And I will blather on about how hard this is.
Let them tear my name to pieces,
I’m not worth what it’s printed on
If the best I can do is throw a fit.

So I suppose I could have been bitter
At having lost the taste of joy.
And I could have dragged you down with me
Like a selfish little boy.
But if my story’s what’s important,
I think a better one would be
Me ending all this self indulgence,
Putting my clothes on and walking free.
So if I die, let me die
With my friends all at my side.
No more dim-lit mirrors, no an end that I can see.
We will not drink to numb the soreness,
But to toast that we’re alive,
And we will all forget what we pretend to be.