| when you find me pinned beneath the wreckage call off your sirens call of your
|
| search everything is quiet on fire everything is warm inside the glow with
|
| television static, with engines purring let me sleep.
|
| one by one will my friends leave my side or will my plane just drop out of the
|
| sky?
|
| I can"t afford to sleep through the virus hard at work.
|
| it"s called me out.
|
| this body will collapse.
|
| useless to the world.
|
| one sudden drop.
|
| one by one as my senses fade away.
|
| tied to machines that feed signals to my brain.
|
| this is the end.
|
| the doctor draws a blade.
|
| with patient hands.
|
| he writes his name in braille.
|
| I can"t slow my breathing down when I"m staring at the floor.
|
| underneath the threat of giving in, I give it all once more.
|
| quietly dissolving under lights that call me home I can hear the voices
|
| trailing off.
|
| someone is shutting me down.
|
| someone is shoving me underneath waves of lead.
|
| and I wasn"t strong enough to swim back up to the surface to find you.
|
| this is how it begins quietly counting backwards from ten, nine, eight.
|
| sevensixfivefourthree.
|
| but I can"t concentrate on anything.
|
| no one can save me.
|
| I"m not even here.
|
| I am drifting from
|
| consciousness into oblivion.
|
| someone is shutting me down. |