You died while out with new friends from work,
did they leave you on the floor?
Were you thinking, suffering, listening?
Were you happy, blissfully unaware of the fuss?
You laying there, like Gulliver.
Did you feel tiny men rushing around,
feel them staking pieces of your hair to the earth?
The chaos flowing all around your still body,
a debt that must be paid.
I want to love you in that moment, stroke your face and tell you-
You were my Nicky Arnstein.