I imagined I saw you today
Riding down in the haze of the street
You with your big arms and wild hair.
And rightfully it could’ve been you.
But it wasn’t you.
It wasn’t the you that you are now.
Not it was 15 years old you.
Young and carefree.
While still innocent.
Before you decieded to go out and taste the world.
Before you left behind all the goodness in you.
So it wasn’t you I thought I saw
But I remembered
That girl is dead.