My dearest friend On your chest There's an empty drawer As light as a feather I know I'm not going I know I'm not helping in flames I'm holding still On your side There was no way I could find A scar into the ground My lonely rest Under the stairs There's a mourning freak And a selfish painter I know I'm not going I know I'm not helping in flames I'm not afraid I'm not a friend I'm not going I know I'm not helping inflames but ... wait ...