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