Smoke it down   Until you smell the flesh burning from your finger tips   Your 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 misery   A state of suffering   It's such a shame to see   Years of discretion 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 unhappiness   Emotional distress   And your unhappiness      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 unhappiness   Emotional distress   And your unhappiness