My Buddy, Carl Spicer, is dead, and now I am sad.
I miss him already, for the way he made a whole room laugh.
And the way he always looked so surprised at the affect he had on us,
As if somehow he didn't know what he brought to the party.
My Buddy, Carl Spicer, is dead, and now I am mad.
I didn't go to see him in the hospital; it was too far, I was too busy.
I was too tired to be there for his roast. I... went home.
I felt jealous, yes, jealous, of a better man than me. Damn it!
My Buddy, Carl Spicer, is dead, and I suppose that I am glad...
Glad to have known him. Glad that he doesn't have to fight anymore.
Because I saw how, after all these years, this thing had worn him down,
And it hurt to see, but it hurts more to think how I gave up, on him.
My Buddy, Carl Spicer, is dead, and I am not all right!
There are good people, great souls, and the people who just know,
That we are here to enjoy life and make other lives a little bit better.
Like my good friend, Carl Spicer, who died... but, my God, how he lived!