Friendster

I never asked you for help
I never ask for help
I keep it to myself
We’ll still be your friends
If you move to a new city
If you murder the mailman
If the band fails
You end up in sales
If you f*ck it all up
No matter what
But all my friends are moving on
Still get letters; look forward to your calls
Your disembodied voice shakes over the phone
The whole car rattles I drive alone
Zig-zag between fluorescent cones
Back to the place you used to call home