lay,
i lay on a bed that feels made of stone
stained,
i'm stained painted red and the blood is my own
it's my own
and i'm silently waiting for someone to save me
but it seems to me i won't see another day
i wade in a dark torrent of despair
chained,
i'm chained to false hope it's all i have left
and i'm silently waiting for someone to save me
but it seems to me i won't see another day
bright lights shine upon my withered face
blinding my sight and all memory seems erased
and i'm silently waiting for someone to save me
but it seems to me i won't see another day
the chances of living are slimming fast,
i've been left for dead in this thing called triage
this is triage
silently waiting for someone to save me
the terror's enough to twist my veins
am i forsaken? the question that plagues me
or will i be fortunate enough to leave?

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