I found these old letters from years ago

I felt it was fitting to continue this correspondence

Can't help I'm sentimental

Thanks for talking with me today

Hope this is helpful for you

I also hope birdie is happy and healthy

And staying out of trouble to a reasonable extent

What I wrote was sort of my way

Of finally being able to address how it feels.

Another brick-red room, another black-top town

Another misspelled band burning their own houses down

Another pine-box tune to fill the cemetery day

Another star, a touch of orange over purgatory gray.

Another thorny field to scatter fruitless seed

Another song that runs too long, god knows no one needs

More misguided ghosts, more transparent hands

To drop a nickel in our basket and we'll do our riot!

Dance beneath another burning sky, behind our painted lips

In scores of catatonic smile-covered ankle-bitten ships

So throw your pedestal of stone in the forgetful sea

As protection from the paper-thin perfection you project on me.

When this repetition ends behind the window shades

A semi-conscious sorrow sleeping in the bed I've made

That most unrestful bed, that most original of sins

And you'll say that's what I get when I let ambition win again.

I'd hate to let you down, so I'll let the waters rise

And drown my dull reflection in the naïve expectation in your eyes

Back in a cast bit-part, back when I felt most free

I had a butcher's heart and no one thought they knew me.

So before the regiment resumes, before the dreaded sun appears

My driver's waiting, so let's make one point crystal clear

You see a flood-lit form, I see a shirt design

I'm no savior of yours, and you're no friend of mine.

You're no friend of mine, you're no friend of mine

I'm no savior of yours, and you're no friend of mine

You see a flood-lit form, I see a shirt design

I'm no savior of yours, and you're no friend of mine.

It's kind of hard to see myself in the reflection of people's eyes

Realizing what they see may not be even close to the image I see in myself

And I hate I might actually be more afraid

To let my own self down than anything else

I feel like the man in the story

Who saw a bear floating in the river and thought it was a fur coat

Twelve years ago I stood on the shore

Jumped in and grabbed the coat

And the river is rushing toward a waterfall

And my friend stood at the shore and shouted to let go of the coat and swim back to land

I let go of the coat but the coat won't let go of me

In any case please let me know if there's more I can give you

If nothing comes of it, then just know we are grateful.