What do I say about my brother, my rock, my best friend, my source of sanity in this chaotic life. I just want to pick up the phone and say "what are you doing"? That's how we started every phone call. We could talk for hours! We would talk about the past, like the story about the monkey, what we were doing for the day, what we were making for dinner, or where we were going to eat, and sometimes we would end the conversation with a long distance shot of Fireball. I so wished we weren't so far apart, I missed the days when we'd go out on the boat, prepare meals together then just sit with some cocktails and talk. Now I miss those phone calls, I will always miss them. Life will never be the same, I will never be the same. The long rides in the car are long and lonely now, I used to call you to kill time. Sundays seem to drag on forever since with no phone call. You could always pull me out of a dark place with a good laugh and your infectious, twisted sense of humor. I counted on that every single time.
I hope you hit those gold streets on two wheels
Hope your mansion in the sky's got a ten-acre field
With some mud and some hubs, you can lock in
Make some thunder, make 'em wonder how you got in
Hide your beer, hide your clear from the Man upstairs
Crank it loud, hold it down 'til I get there
And when I do, I hope you got some new stories to tell
'Til then, give Heaven some hell
"Give Heaven Some Hell" By Hardy