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And I don't know where I'll go when I go. Will Saint Pete assess my soul? Will I sleep without dreams in some hole? I'll drive my car off the rode. I'll pray that the tank explodes. The impact will snap my bones and I'll plunge headfirst toward the unknown.
But I don't wanna go if I have to go alone.
My dad died, like his dad died, and I know someday I'll die, but I'm alive.
My friends say all the best things. I hope to meet them in the end.