Smoke it down

Until you smell the flesh burning from your finger tips

You're knuckles are white

From beating on the walls at night

Cast your worries to the side

Focus only when you get the time

Gonna lose your mind

It happens all the time



Maybe I can tell you

To keep your head up and follow through

Good things will come to you

I could worry myself to death about you

Hope you get there safely



I got your letter that you sent to me

About your missery

A state of suffering

It's such a shame to see

Years of discression and of a sound mind

A suicide is for the weaker kind



Maybe I can tell you

To keep your head up and follow through

Good things will come to you

I could worry myself to death about you

Hope you get there safely

And your unhappyness

Emotional Distress

And your unhappyness



Maybe I can tell you

To keep your head up and follow through

Good things will come to you

I could worry myself to death about you

Hope you get there safely

And your unhappyness

Emotional Distress

And your unhappyness