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| Thrice The Artist In The Ambulence The Artist In The Ambulence Late night brakes lock hear the tires squeel. Red light can't stop so I spin the wheel. My world goes black before I, feel an angel lift me up. And, I open blood shot eyes into fluorescent white. Flip the siren, hit the lights, close the doors and I am gone. Now I lay here, owing my life to a stranger and I realize that empty words are not enough. I'm left here with the question of, "Just what have I to show except, the promises I've never kept?" I lie here shaking on this bed, under the weight of my regrets. I hope, that I will never let you down. I know, that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound. Look around and you'll see that at times it feels like no one really cares. It gets me down but I'm still gonna try to do what's right. I know that there's a difference between slight of hand and giving everything you have. There's a line drawn in the sand, I'm working up the will to cross it. And, I hope, that I will never let you down. I know, that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound. Rhetoric can raise the dead. I'm sick of always talking, when there's no change. Rhetoric can raise the dead I'm sick of empty words. Let's lead, and not follow! Late night brakes lock hear the tires squeel. Red light can't stop so I spin the wheel. My world goes black before I feel and angel steal me from the greedy jaws of death and chance and pull me in with steady hands. Giving me a second chance, the artist in the ambulence! I hope, that I will never let you down. I know, that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound. Can we pick you off the ground? More than flashing lights and sound! |
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