I just want to drown myself,
In these glass bottles and the liquids they contain,
I'm so tired of being looked over,
I am the boy who feels no pain,

My nerves have been shut off,
This world is just too much,
I've painted my own death,
With this feeble fragile brush,

We made it through three seasons,
I held you through the cold,
We trembled under blankets,
But together we grew too bold,

Apart we are forever,
But together is just this pain,
The heat of the Texas summer,
Turned into Southern winter rain,

I told you that I love you,
But there's something different about your voice,
And in the end of these seasons,
You left me but one choice,

We never made it to the Spring,
Your scent is missing from the breeze,
It was the end of this cold winter,
I watched you grab your stuff and leave.