text: Dear Slim, I wrote you, but you still aint callin
  I left my cell, my pager and my home phone at the bottom
  I sent two letters back in autumn, you must notve got em
  There probably was a problem at the post office or somethin
  Sometimes I scribble addresses too sloppy when I jot em
  But anyways, fuck it, whats been up, man? Hows your daughter?
  My girlfriends pregnant too, Im bout to be a father
  If I have a daughter, guess what Ima call her?
  Ima name her Bonnie
  I read about your Uncle Ronnie too, Im sorry
  I had a friend kill himself over some bitch who didnt want him
  I know you probably hear this every day, but Im your biggest fan
  I even got the underground shit that you did with Skam
  I got a room full of your posters and your pictures, man
  I like the shit you did with Rawkus too, that shit was phat
  Anyways, I hope you get this, man, hit me back
  Just to chat, truly yours, your biggest fan, this is Stan
  My teas gone cold
  Im wondering why I got out of bed at all
  The morning rain clouds up my window
  And I cant see at all
  And even if I could itd all be gray
  But your picture on my wall
  It reminds me that its not so bad, its not so bad
  Dear Slim, you still aint called or wrote, I hope you have a chance
  I aint mad, I just think its fucked up you dont answer fans
  If you didnt want to talk to me outside your concert, you didnt have to
  But you coulda signed an autograph for Matthew
  Thats my little brother, man, hes only six years old
  We waited in the blisterin cold
  For you, for four hours, and you just said no
  Thats pretty shitty, man, youre like his fuckin idol
  He wants to be just like you, man, he likes you more than I do
  I aint that mad, though I just dont like bein lied to
  Remember when we met in Denver?
  You said if Id write you, you would write back
  See, Im just like you in a way: I never knew my father neither
  He used to always cheat on my mom and beat her
  I can relate to what youre sayin in your songs
  So when I have a shitty day, I drift away and put em on
  ‘Cause I dont really got shit else
  So that shit helps when Im depressed
  I even got a tattoo with your name across the chest
  Sometimes I even cut myself to see how much it bleeds
  Its like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me
  See, everything you say is real, and I respect you ‘cause you tell it
  My girlfriends jealous cause I talk about you 24/7
  But she dont know you like I know you, Slim, no one does
  She dont know what it was like for people like us growin up
  You gotta call me, man, Ill be the biggest fan youll ever lose
  Sincerely yours, Stan—P.S. We should be together too
  My teas gone cold
  Im wondering why I got out of bed at all
  The morning rain clouds up my window
  And I cant see at all
  And even if I could itd all be gray
  But your picture on my wall
  It reminds me that its not so bad, its not so bad
  Dear Mr. Im-Too-Good-to-Call-or-Write-My-Fans
  Thisll be the last package I ever send your ass
  Its been six months, and still no word—I dont deserve it?
  I know you got my last two letters, I wrote the addresses on em perfect
  So this is my cassette Im sendin you, I hope you hear it
  Im in the car right now, Im doin 90 on the freeway
  Hey, Slim, I drank a fifth of vodka, you dare me to drive?
  You know the song by Phil Collins, In the Air of the Night
  About that guy who coulda saved that other guy from drownin
  But didnt, then Phil saw it all, then at a show he found him?
  Thats kinda how this is: you coulda rescued me from drownin
  Now its too late, Im on a thousand downers now—Im drowsy
  And all I wanted was a lousy letter or a call
  I hope you know I ripped all of your pictures off the wall
  I loved you, Slim, we coulda been together—think about it!
  You ruined it now, I hope you cant sleep and you dream about it
  And when you dream I hope you cant sleep and you scream about it
  I hope your conscience eats at you and you cant breathe without me
  See, Slim—shut up, bitch! Im tryin to talk
  Hey, Slim, thats my girlfriend screamin in the trunk
  But I didnt slit her throat, I just tied her up—see? I aint like you
  ‘Cause if she suffocates shell suffer more and then shell die too
  Well, gotta go, Im almost at the bridge now
  Oh, shit, I forgot—how am I supposed to send this shit out?!
  My teas gone cold
  Im wondering why I got out of bed at all
  The morning rain clouds up my window
  And I cant see at all
  And even if I could itd all be gray
  But your picture on my wall
  It reminds me that its not so bad, its not so bad
  Dear Stan, I meant to write you sooner, but I just been busy
  You said your girlfriends pregnant now, how far along is she?
  Look, Im really flattered you would call your daughter that
  And heres an autograph for your brother; I wrote it on a Starter cap
  Im sorry I didnt see you at the show, I mustve missed you
  Dont think I did that shit intentionally just to diss you
  But whats this shit you said about you like to cut your wrists too?
  I say that shit just clownin, dawg, come on, how fucked up is you?
  You got some issues, Stan, I think you need some counselin
  To help your ass from bouncin off the walls when you get down some
  And whats this shit about us meant to be together?
  That type of shitll make me not want us to meet each other
  I really think you and your girlfriend need each other
  Or maybe you just need to treat her better
  I hope you get to read this letter, I just hope it reaches you in time
  Before you hurt yourself, I think that youll be doin just fine
  If you relax a little, Im glad I inspire you, but Stan
  Why are you so mad? Try to understand that I do want you as a fan
  I just dont want you to do some crazy shit
  I seen this one shit on the news a couple weeks ago that made me sick
  Some dude was drunk and drove his car over a bridge
  And had his girlfriend in the trunk, and she was pregnant with his kid
  And in the car they found a tape, but they didnt say who it was to
  Come to think about it, his name was—it was you
  Damn…