Don't Waste This One

Keep it 82 BPM, but do something important with the beat: the first half should sound almost identical to “Twenty Years, ” Same degraded soul sample, warped piano and whiskey-pour rhythm, That makes listeners initially think the previous story is continuing, The instant he realizes the funeral was yesterday, start restoring the record, Less warble, Cleaner female soul vocal, Warmer bass, When he pours the bottle out and answers the imagined Death with “Yeah… that’s the fucking point, ” hit the hardest drum drop of the song—massive dusty kick, cracking dry snare and a new soul chop, At the cemetery, strip the drums again, Let his promise sit over piano, vinyl and the female vocal, Then the note reading “Don’t waste this one” gets absolute silence, The final “Good choice” should use Death’s voice from the series with the same sonic treatment listeners recognize immediately, And I especially like one line as the heart of this chapter: “I’m not gonna use your grave as an excuse to dig

[INTRO — BLACKNESS]

DEATH:
Fair enough.

[HAND GRABS HIS]

BEST FRIEND:
Alright…

Let’s go.

[HEARTBEAT STOPS]

[TOTAL SILENCE]

BEST FRIEND:

AHHH!

[GASPING]

I shot straight up.

Cold sweat.

Heart beating like somebody
was kicking the inside of my chest.

[HEARTBEAT — FAST]

Bedroom.

My bedroom.

Morning light through the blinds.

I grabbed my chest.

Still beating.

Looked at my hands.

Young hands.

Not seventy years old.

BEST FRIEND:

What the fuck…

[FAMILIAR FEMALE SOUL SAMPLE — VERY FAINT]

⸻

[VERSE 1]

I stumbled toward the mirror.

Same face.

Same beard.

Same clothes from yesterday.

I grabbed my phone.

Checked the date.

Funeral was…

yesterday.

Not twenty years ago.

Yesterday.

BEST FRIEND:

It was a dream…

Just a fucking dream.

I started laughing.

Then crying.

Then laughing again.

Because for the first time
waking up hurt…

felt fucking beautiful.

I was alive.

⸻

[HOOK]

I thought tomorrow
was already gone,

Thought I’d wasted twenty years
before I knew what I’d done.

Then I opened my eyes…

sunlight pouring through the room.

If yesterday was my second chance…

today makes number three.

And I swear—

I ain’t wasting this one too.

⸻

[VERSE 2]

I walked into the kitchen.

There it was.

Bottle on the counter.

Same fucking bottle.

I stared at it.

And suddenly I could see everything.

My daughter’s graduation.

Empty chair.

My mother’s funeral.

Missed calls.

Grandson asking who I was.

Twenty years disappearing
one glass at a time.

All things that never happened.

But somehow…

I remembered every one.

BEST FRIEND:

Not happening.

I grabbed the bottle.

Unscrewed the cap.

Started pouring.

[LIQUOR DOWN THE SINK]

And for one second—

I swear I heard him.

DEATH:

Little early for that.

I froze.

Turned around.

Nobody.

BEST FRIEND:

Yeah…

That’s the fucking point.

[BEAT DROPS HARD]

⸻

[VERSE 3]

First call—

my daughter.

DAUGHTER:
Dad?

BEST FRIEND:
Yeah.

DAUGHTER:
It’s seven in the morning.

BEST FRIEND:
I know.

I just…

wanted to hear your voice.

DAUGHTER:
Are you okay?

I looked at the empty bottle.

BEST FRIEND:

I’m gonna be.

Second call—

my brother.

Third—

somebody I hadn’t spoken to
because pride lasted longer
than the argument.

Then I found a meeting.

Then a counselor.

Then I took every bottle in the house
and dumped that shit.

Not because suddenly
everything stopped hurting.

My best friend was still dead.

That hadn’t changed.

But I was still alive.

And that had to mean something.

⸻

[VERSE 4 — AT THE CEMETERY]

That afternoon…

I went back.

Same cemetery.

Same fresh dirt.

Same flowers.

But this time
there was sunlight between the clouds.

I stood over his grave.

BEST FRIEND:

Alright, motherfucker.

You win.

[PAUSE]

I don’t know why you chose me.

Probably never will.

And I’m still pissed at you.

Probably always will be.

But if you really gave me your tomorrow…

then I’m gonna stop treating it
like something I stole.

[DRUMS FADE OUT]

I put my hand on his headstone.

BEST FRIEND:

I’m getting a third chance, brother.

And I swear to God…

I’m not gonna fuck this one up.

⸻

[BRIDGE — CLEAN SOUL SAMPLE]

BEST FRIEND:

First chance was the life I was born with.

Second chance…

was the life you gave me.

Third chance?

Maybe that’s realizing
what the first two were worth.

So I’m gonna call people back.

Show up.

Get sober.

Forgive some shit.

Ask forgiveness for some shit.

Love people while they’re still here.

Say what needs saying
before somebody’s standing over a casket
wishing they’d said it.

And when I miss you…

I’m gonna miss you.

But I’m not gonna use your grave
as an excuse to dig mine.

⸻

[FINAL VERSE]

I started walking toward my car.

Then stopped.

Something was underneath my windshield wiper.

Small piece of paper.

I pulled it out.

No name.

No explanation.

Just handwriting.

Four words.

“Don’t waste this one.”

[TOTAL SILENCE]

My blood went cold.

I looked around.

Empty cemetery.

BEST FRIEND:

Death?

Nothing.

Then—

way down at the cemetery gate…

Black jacket.

Man standing underneath a tree.

I blinked.

Gone.

I looked back at the note.

Turned it over.

Something else written on the back:

“Hopefully, not for a very long time.”

I smiled.

Put the note in my pocket.

BEST FRIEND:

Yeah.

That’s the plan.

⸻

[OUTRO]

[CAR DOOR OPENS]

[ENGINE STARTS]

For the first time since my brother died…

I didn’t drive to the liquor store.

I drove home.

Not to hide.

Not to drink.

Not to forget him.

To start figuring out…

how the hell to live for both of us.

[FAMILIAR FEMALE SOUL VOCAL]

And somewhere underneath the music…

almost too quiet to hear—

DEATH:

Good choice.

[VINYL CUT]

4679/7500

[INTRO — BLACKNESS] DEATH: Fair enough. [HAND GRABS HIS] BEST FRIEND: Alright… Let’s go. [HEARTBEAT STOPS] [TOTAL SILENCE] BEST FRIEND: AHHH! [GASPING] I shot straight up. Cold sweat. Heart beating like somebody was kicking the inside of my chest. [HEARTBEAT — FAST] Bedroom. My bedroom. Morning light through the blinds. I grabbed my chest. Still beating. Looked at my hands. Young hands. Not seventy years old. BEST FRIEND: What the fuck… [FAMILIAR FEMALE SOUL SAMPLE — VERY FAINT] ⸻ [VERSE 1] I stumbled toward the mirror. Same face. Same beard. Same clothes from yesterday. I grabbed my phone. Checked the date. Funeral was… yesterday. Not twenty years ago. Yesterday. BEST FRIEND: It was a dream… Just a fucking dream. I started laughing. Then crying. Then laughing again. Because for the first time waking up hurt… felt fucking beautiful. I was alive. ⸻ [HOOK] I thought tomorrow was already gone, Thought I’d wasted twenty years before I knew what I’d done. Then I opened my eyes… sunlight pouring through the room. If yesterday was my second chance… today makes number three. And I swear— I ain’t wasting this one too. ⸻ [VERSE 2] I walked into the kitchen. There it was. Bottle on the counter. Same fucking bottle. I stared at it. And suddenly I could see everything. My daughter’s graduation. Empty chair. My mother’s funeral. Missed calls. Grandson asking who I was. Twenty years disappearing one glass at a time. All things that never happened. But somehow… I remembered every one. BEST FRIEND: Not happening. I grabbed the bottle. Unscrewed the cap. Started pouring. [LIQUOR DOWN THE SINK] And for one second— I swear I heard him. DEATH: Little early for that. I froze. Turned around. Nobody. BEST FRIEND: Yeah… That’s the fucking point. [BEAT DROPS HARD] ⸻ [VERSE 3] First call— my daughter. DAUGHTER: Dad? BEST FRIEND: Yeah. DAUGHTER: It’s seven in the morning. BEST FRIEND: I know. I just… wanted to hear your voice. DAUGHTER: Are you okay? I looked at the empty bottle. BEST FRIEND: I’m gonna be. Second call— my brother. Third— somebody I hadn’t spoken to because pride lasted longer than the argument. Then I found a meeting. Then a counselor. Then I took every bottle in the house and dumped that shit. Not because suddenly everything stopped hurting. My best friend was still dead. That hadn’t changed. But I was still alive. And that had to mean something. ⸻ [VERSE 4 — AT THE CEMETERY] That afternoon… I went back. Same cemetery. Same fresh dirt. Same flowers. But this time there was sunlight between the clouds. I stood over his grave. BEST FRIEND: Alright, motherfucker. You win. [PAUSE] I don’t know why you chose me. Probably never will. And I’m still pissed at you. Probably always will be. But if you really gave me your tomorrow… then I’m gonna stop treating it like something I stole. [DRUMS FADE OUT] I put my hand on his headstone. BEST FRIEND: I’m getting a third chance, brother. And I swear to God… I’m not gonna fuck this one up. ⸻ [BRIDGE — CLEAN SOUL SAMPLE] BEST FRIEND: First chance was the life I was born with. Second chance… was the life you gave me. Third chance? Maybe that’s realizing what the first two were worth. So I’m gonna call people back. Show up. Get sober. Forgive some shit. Ask forgiveness for some shit. Love people while they’re still here. Say what needs saying before somebody’s standing over a casket wishing they’d said it. And when I miss you… I’m gonna miss you. But I’m not gonna use your grave as an excuse to dig mine. ⸻ [FINAL VERSE] I started walking toward my car. Then stopped. Something was underneath my windshield wiper. Small piece of paper. I pulled it out. No name. No explanation. Just handwriting. Four words. “Don’t waste this one.” [TOTAL SILENCE] My blood went cold. I looked around. Empty cemetery. BEST FRIEND: Death? Nothing. Then— way down at the cemetery gate… Black jacket. Man standing underneath a tree. I blinked. Gone. I looked back at the note. Turned it over. Something else written on the back: “Hopefully, not for a very long time.” I smiled. Put the note in my pocket. BEST FRIEND: Yeah. That’s the plan. ⸻ [OUTRO] [CAR DOOR OPENS] [ENGINE STARTS] For the first time since my brother died… I didn’t drive to the liquor store. I drove home. Not to hide. Not to drink. Not to forget him. To start figuring out… how the hell to live for both of us. [FAMILIAR FEMALE SOUL VOCAL] And somewhere underneath the music… almost too quiet to hear— DEATH: Good choice. [VINYL CUT]

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