I don't sleep
'Cause sleep is the cousin of death
Down the hall
There's a kid that I know
He's kinda quirky so I say hello
He's so sarcastic but he's always right
Working on those problem sets late into the night
Mad magazines sit piled by his bed
A million billion thoughts going all through his head
We biked to class in the autumn rain
He tells me that he's fine, but I know he's in pain
Pat, I miss you, dude, it's so hard to say goodbye
In Europe last winter, you were tired of the lie
Monoxide in the bathroom, but the door was locked
We were always there for you, you could've called and talked
I felt guilty and alone and so sick when I discovered
You did it in Berlin, you just talked to your mother
I guess it was too much, depression, disillusion
Maybe suicide's an answer, but it wasn't the solution
And I wish that you hadn't done it
Could have won it and moved on from it
And we could have grown old together
But instead you'll always be
Twenty-three
Twenty-three
We sat together one night on El Camino
On the bench by the bus stop hiding from El Niño
You told me your secret, I just sat there in shock
You couldn't tell your parents, you couldn't break that lock
Cognitive dissonance, trapped in your shell
Depression and regression made your life a living hell
The pain was too intense, the fence too strong to break
So you went to Germany, it was too much to take
You came back broken-hearted, distracted by the dream
The worlds collided now, college wasn't what it seemed
You went back to Berlin to find yourself once more
They broke down the door and found you lying on the floor
I took the Amtrak up the coast, your mom met me at the station
I went to see your house and photos of your graduation
We drove to your grave, the tombstone where you lay
Your freshman yearbooks by your bed and your room's in disarray
And I wish that you hadn't done it
Could have won it and moved on from it
And we could have grown old together
But instead you'll always be
Twenty-three
Ladies and gentlemen, I want you to meet a good friend of mine
This is Patrick Wood. What's up, Lars? What's up, Pat? How
You doin', man? Good. What do you think of me having my
Recording equipment take up three-quarters of our small room
In the Kimball dorm? It's no problem, man. I love you. I love
You too, Pat. Thanks, Lars. Pat Wood, hey, that's you! Haha
And I wish that you hadn't done it
Could have won it and moved on from it
Now we'll never grow old together
But you're in my memory
And I wish that you hadn't done it
Could have won it and moved on from it
Now we'll never grow old together
But you're in my memory
Suicide sucks
Twenty-three
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