I still subscribe to my hometown newspaper;
not really sure why,
haven’t lived there in years.
Not sure why I read it,
the reasons aren't clear
and I’ll probably cancel it sooner or later
but today I saw an old friend of mine died.
She went to my school, we passed notes all the time;
oh my god he's so cute, what's up Friday night?
The newspaper said she died “quietly at home”,
and I thought to myself, not the girl that I know.
The one I remember was a bit of a rebel,
drank like a sailor and laughed like the devil
and she could roll joints like an old cigar maker.
The woman I saw at the top of page three
rolled her granddaughter’s hair and drank earl grey tea.
Time once passed slowly,
it goes quickly now.
I don't know where and I wonder how,
but I look in the mirror and it all becomes clear;
the girl that I was, haven’t seen her in years
and I brush my gray hair and think, sooner or later,
we’re all just a story in a hometown newspaper.