Seventeener (17th and 37th)

I never

Wanted to die old

But it’s too late now

My heart has grown so cold

And the corpse I leave behind

Ain’t gonna be

No pretty boy

It’s a sick sack of disease

And we thought about, ways we’d love to go

High and beautiful and fucking in the snow

On New Year's Day, or Christmas Eve

On a warm November night

Buried beneath the orange leaves

Just a few dreams of the ways that we could leave

My heart got kicked out of all its homes

And dying young just didn’t work out so I guess I’m dying old

And now there ain’t nowhere left to go

Because all my loves would rather be alone

And yesterday I woke up to find

The black in my beard had turned to white

And the pretty girls

That used to smile at me

Just stared off straight ahead

Or looked down at their feet

So tonight

I’ll sit up here

With the streetlights and these seventeen beers

Straight from the page

Of a teenage diary

Underneath these shitty stars like I was seventeen