My friends are all dead

My friends are all dead
And they just won't shut up about it

The steamed milk is red
And I can't get a cup without it

My blood will not clot
and a cut through my skin will kill me

My knees are both shot
and no dance on my lap will thrill me

​My songs are all sung
And I'll climb to the roof and shout that

And everyone's young
And there's not much to do about that

I'm awake in my bed
and you can't write a letter for it

my friends are all dead
and I guess they're the better for it