by Thrice
on The Artist In The Ambulance
:: Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal. — Red light, can’t stop so I spin the wheel. — My world goes black before I feel an angel lift me up. — An I open bloodshot eyes into fluorescent white. — They flip the siren, hit the lights, close the doors and I am gone. :: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Ton0a230_s
