I’m never, ever going see you againnAm I? Am I?nBut, I guess it’s for the bestnYeah, I know it’s for the bestnBut, you, you, younAnd your simple tattoosnYou picked off the wallnDid anyone ever tell younYou got no imagination at all?nnI could get by on so much lessnYou know thisnBut it still doesn’t help the stingnIt still doesn’t help thingsnnHeard that you’ve been smoking againnWe all do what we have tonAnd I’ve been lying wishing you all the bestnOh, my sweet man, what has become of you?nYou are the sweetest man I ever knewnWith eyes so blue, bluennI could get by on so much lessnYou know thisnBut it still doesn’t help the stingnIt still doesn’t help thingsnStill doesn’t help the sting