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Coma baby, with your sick head;
the doctors saved you, but you’re still dead.
Through your scalp I would like to reach in,
so I could pull out the monster you’ve been.

But you would do anything to
destroy the body that they rescued.
Your sick little head, so brain damaged,
and lying in that hospital bed.

Coma baby, the cry of your bones
and your skull when it split on the road.
I wish I’d find all the lonely remnants
of you that left when your head cracked open.

But you would do anything to
destroy the body that they rescued.
Your sick little head, so brain damaged,
and lying in that hospital bed.

Lately I can’t recognise you;
the doctors lied when they said they saved you.
You’re just the shell of the boy that you've been.
And you’re dying, I can feel it.

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