This is a song about "Think back to the days"

Let's pretend he had a home to run, saving the days,

Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave

If we thinking success is only measured by your money

Not the days he spent so carefully, crafting words to his melody

Now i’m armed and i’m fayetnam’s finest

Never gonna get it back so don't start to think

Who baby momma's a rat, and who got killed last weekend

Never gonna get it back so don't even start to think

Never gonna get it back so don't start to think

Break himand let him see tha face of a mental patient

I think back to the memories of everything we shared,

I cut my wrist and play piano cause i'm so depressed