The John Jouberts

[Verse 1]
I dreamt I was a drummer
You and I were in a band
We were called "The John Jouberts"
We played the so cold basements
This woman came to see us
She was furious as hell
You see, her son, he was a victim
Of the name spray painted
Across my drum shells
I can't recall the rest too well

[Verse 2]
We were Young Turks in the 80s
As winter white-washed Omaha
A boogie man was on the loose
Hunting boys about five-foot tall
And we knew we fit thе profile
Though I'd often point out, the boys wеre blonde
That winter froze our childhood, I suppose
I suppose, our innocence never thawed

[Verse 3]
So here's a song for Danny Joe Eberle
Here's a song for Chris Walden
They both took a slow bullet
So us other Turks could live
And I don't know how to thank them
And even thanking them feels wrong
If they could know I'm still thinking of them
I am
I am thankful I'm here
But hate that they're gone
They say "The good die young"
What a shitty thing to say
"The good die young"