A group of friends of all trades Rubbing each other's backs Barbecues on chilly spring evenings Talking about life and death Admiring the endless light Listening to Mumford and Sons Dancing naked in the forest Pure serenity Whiskey in a hip flask Someone takes out a guitar Someone falls in love Staying awake until it gets light again Someone needs to stay sober to get us back home All good things come to an end Shattered around the country, the world We collectively separately think of those times We all agree They were good. But it was not your fault but mine And it was your heart on the line I really fucked it up this time Didn't I, my dear?

Eamonn looked down upon his hands He had to admit - he very much disregarded, yes even detested himself After he had spoken, he started to hate every word he said, Nothing of it was pleasant and it was as if he heard himself speak rather than producing speech himself He used to consider himself rather amusing, he could recall people laughing at his humorous jokes These days he tried to be funny But nothing he said was considered hilarious in any way He might have as well remained quiet Sometimes when people started to laugh after he spoke it was rather they were laughing at him than laughing at his jests What a miserable life he lead Once there was Apple Apple loved to get high with Eamonn They'd sit around the campfire with all their friends and pass the pipe around Apple and Eamonn dreamed of poems and prayers and promises They dreamed of having four children Their names be Rosemary, Sage, Parsley and Thyme But it all came different As it is in life Things turn out different than