It's finally 2am But it doesn't seem that late I should still go home And try and concentrate On something not so sad To keep me from going completely mad So I turn on all the lights And waiting there for me Is a bent and broken note That came from Germany It had no return address Just the word "DEPRESSED" - what a mess The first line that I read Said "I hope you're sitting down 'cause the news I got is gonna knock you out It's about my only son, your music, and a loaded gun," - what fun You know, as I push this pen It wasn't dipped in blame We're the only ones in charge Of the choices that we make So just hope for the best But prepare for the worst No matter how much it hurts So if you feel the way I do Put your fingers up inside your wounds And lift apart that innocence That joins us at this broken hip No matter how much it hurts No matter how much it hurts No matter how much it hurts