There are old letters in my hands
That are begging for the fireplace.
I have been thinking too much.
And now I'm out of my mind.

Summer is in full swing.
And I'm just sitting near
This warm fireplace
And frustrating myself.

Open a blank page of that book
Where I already know all the hooks.
That's why I swear at the world.
It's rotten to holes.

Today I have severe chills.
I'd get drunk and fall asleep.
Lie on the floor carefree,
Infusing my body with grief.

But my hands are stained with the ashes
Of those burned letters.
Did I fall asleep or was I shot?
My head hurts a lot.