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Rue Snider
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Goodbye Amy
There ain't twenty-four hours of news,
but folks got to stay occupied.
So we broadcast every bruise
and post every suicide.
And we're still not happy.
We're still not satisfied.
There's another demise on the horizon
to fill up our tedious lives.
Goodbye, Amy. I'll miss you so much.
Goodbye, Amy. I'll miss you so much.
She'll just feel so fucking used,
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indisposed and broken.
The heroin and the muse
and her pipes still smoking.
There never was money
in her getting clean.
So she died a hundred times
in checkout magazines.
Goodbye, Amy. I'll miss you so much.
Goodbye, Amy. I'll miss you so much.
Goodbye, Amy. I'll miss you so much.
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