I made my escape on that glorious day,
Seemed bleak at first but I made my way.
My suitcase was packed,
Riding the bus that would finally take me back.
Asking no one for favors, I embarked on this alone, yes, the ship sailed and the plane was flown.
To be far away from here, and all those near and dear, would grow to know loss like a common fear.
But my planet crashed, my ship sunk
I woke up.
Track marks scattered, floral robes tattered, Narcan kissed my vain, and became the pilot of that plane.
Oh to my dismay, in a room filled with fake smiles and "you're okay."
Organ repair, blood pressure flair, on and on like a revolving door.
Ten thousand "sorry's", and a desperate party to see me sing and act.
With my IV leash, attached to a snarling beast, I gave them what they paid for.
So now I'm stuck where I started, wishing I departed, and made it all the way.
But I do how they do, and do what they say. Nothing is my own, not even the day.
My passion is gone, I exist without hope, I'm forced to breathe,and to shadow the pope.
You see, the pilot is to blame, he saved my body, but killed my heart with shame.
But I'll get my revenge, and I will live again, or save up for another ticket. But you will feel sorrow, for all of my gray tomorrow's pouring down from an endless spigot.
For you trapped me here, my exit was near, and freedom would have rang true. All that are dear, ridden with fear, and the one to blame is you.
Blame can run no where else, vindication sleeps in your bed, you played god and raised me from the dead.
You
made
me
live.