Letting off the Happiness

I dreamt of a fever,
one that would cure me of this cold, winter set heart.
With heat to melt these frozen tears and burn with reasons as to carry on.
Into these twisted months I plunge without a light to follow but I swear that I would follow anything just get me out of here.
AND YOU GET SIX MONTHS TO ADAPT AND THAN YOU GET TWO MORE TO LEAVE TOWN.
IN THE EVENT YOU DO ADAPT WE STILL MIGHT NOT WANT YOU AROUND.
AND I FELL FOR THE PROMISE OF A LIFE WITH A PURPOSE BUT I KNOW NOW THAT THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE NOW.
And so I drink to stay warm and to kill selected memories because I just can't think anymore about that or about her tonight.
I GIVE MYSELF THREE DAYS TO FEEL BETTER OR ELES I SWEAR I AM DRIVING OFF A FUCKING CLIFF.
BECAUSE IF I CAN'T MAKE MYSELF FEEL BETTER THEN HOW CAN I EXPECT ANYONE ELSE TO GIVE A SHIT.
And I scream for the sunlight or a car to take me anywhere,
just get me past this dead and eternal snow.
BECAUSE I SWEAR THAT I AM DYING,
SLOWLY BUT IT'S HAPPENING.
And if there is a perfect spring that's waiting somewhere just take me there just take me there just take me there and lie to me and say it's going to be alright.
It's going to be alright...