Summer's Cold

Summer's cold
I've been told
The corrosive nature of a broken soul
Grabs ahold, predetermined before you were four years old
Now you know
How to deal with all the headaches
And that winter's just no place to wake up

Shotgun shells
On the shelf in my dad's closet
I had never held a gun
But always wanted one

Box of pills
In the kitchen on the counter
With the days marked at the top
Bring the glass in, fill the palm
Drink til the last drop
Yeah that's good

Summer's cold
I've been told
The corrosive nature of a broken soul
Grabs ahold, predetermined before you were four years old
Now you know
How to deal with all the headaches
Used to feel too hard to handle
You know that winter's just a place
So where's the problem?
So where's the problem?
So where's the problem?
So where's the problem?



Credits
Writer(s): Neil Robert Berthier
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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