Letter To Myself The Lottery Winners (Ft. Frank Turner)

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[Verse 1: Thomas Rylance]
Dear self
I know you're crying out for help
So I thought I'd write this letter
What are you now, like 12?
I know it seems like
The pressure's stuck on high
So I've come from the future
To tell you it's fine

You need to worry less
About how you are perceived
And focus a bit more
On the things that you believe
'Cause I know it seems right now
You don't have your place
But it will all fit together
Trust me, it's the case

So get out there
And do all the things you love
And don't you darе sacrifice them
Just to look good, oh
Read somе of those books
Sitting on your shelf
Drink in that knowledge
This is a letter to myself