you keep saying (to the tune of Wolves Where I'm Going)

You love me very much,

Very deeply,

But do you write songs about me?

For me?

It's hard to tell

Because you talk about you and another person smoking

And I know you know that I kinda used to smoke, but not really

I'm enough to move you

Off the couch, and out of your chair,

And sometimes into bed

But am I enough to move you

To write me into chords and picking,

And open mic hauntings?

Because I would haunt you, too

If I die first, you know I would haunt you