Everybody needs you, no matter
what they say. But darling, you're
swimming in dangerous waters,
with a fake confidence that they fail
to see past, a single fallen rose
in a city garden lacking flowers
and love. Oh how you remind me
of the muse behind the classics
that everybody knows.

Baby, this isn't paradise, that much
I understand, but you have to make it
okay before it can ever get better. You
have a blank canvass at the turn
of every moment and the people laughing
at your creations just wish that
they could do the same, even
though it's so clear that none
have the same talent.

And you hold on to those red plastic
guitar picks, the ones he gave you
right before he left, as if the moment you
let go you will be face to face with
Master Death. Oh my dear, you remind me
of myself, because it's true, you are.

Just please,
please come back to us
while you still have
the chance.