Just got back from Philly
It’s two A.M
I wonder how you’re holding up at your sister's house
We stopped by a record store on the way there
You didn’t say much, things were going through your head

Your brothers are in Delaware
You’re alone in the city, in your mother’s house
The one you called your second home
I’m sorry that she’s gone, we don’t have to talk about it
But you know you’re always welcome to stay here in the basement

We listen to Weezer, I put in Pinkerton
Rivers Cuomo understands the situation
Celebrate your birthday two days ahead
Smoked a bunch of pot so you could get these thoughts out of your head
But you let them in

What’s the point of being in a punk rock band without your best friend?
He always wears that stupid hat
I don’t know what it’s like under that sock head
Cancer is a bitch, now I’m playing a show alone
He turns 19 years old today at his mother's funeral

Just got off the phone with him
He’s doing okay, safe in Philadelphia with his Philly cheese steaks
Cancer is a bitch, just like your ex girlfriend
What’s the point of punk rock, if you don’t have your best friend