I am swiftly moved by the hand of my latest owner
The paper tickles my tip,
My wet, blue blood gets stuck on the hand of them

I have seen everything,
My owners personal secrets,
The bottom of shoes crushing my soul,
The emergency room and everything that comes in it, the dying, and the new, the sick, and the healthy,
The notes people write, and the things people say, about love, about being hurt, and about hurting,
The tears, carefully dripping down the cheek of those who have lost, and those who have gained,
The smiles, the laughter, and all things good.

They love like the paper,
They care like the coins that cluster and get caught on me,
In the pocket of those who own me,
That is the only time I can't see

I started off in a package,
Then to falling on the floor, 
Getting passed down,
And being stolen,
I have fallen, on the floor and pavement,
Sometimes I get picked up by the old,
And sometimes the new,
I was a gift, from 5-year old lovers,
When the ink runs out,

All is lost,
When I go in the trash,
The memories,
The love,

All goes away