Forget me. Forget me not. Take my paintings all down. Put my letters in a box. Criticize my songs. Throw my photos in the closet. Forget all the good things that I’d say and do. But remember me for what went wrong and what I couldn’t get used to. Replace me. Replace me not. We all know you’ve got girls who’d be more than willing. Who’d be a lot easier. Who’d ease the pain a bit. But where is the thrill?