she's not rapping at my front door
begging me for a little more
she's not stewed in her own shit
and she's not on the floor in fits
she's not digging through my change
at the pawn shop with my things
she's not crying in my bed
that's because

diane is dead

she's not answering my calls
she's not joining me for walks
stealing me chips from the store
and she's not with me when i score
but she's still in my heart
and she's still in my head
and i'm crying in my bed
that's because

diane is dead

diane
diane
dying
dying
dying
diane