I remember when the world was ours, kid.

Shades of Willie Mays in a Mets uniform. It just doesn’t seem right. Look what they’ve done with you. You’re wearing #32 on your back. You’re playing right field. You’re hitting clean-up, where you’re so uncomfortable.

Things were better when we were together. We would go for long walks on the streets of Newport, Kentucky. You told me you loved me that day, under the sun. And I loved you. We’d make dinner and laugh. Now look at you. Just look at you. You’ve probably already moved on.