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The Flatliners



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The Flatliners

He Was A Jazzman

i see you gripping tight to the rails of your hospital bed
you move so slow
you say the pain you fell is too great to be inside your head
i know, i know
you move so slow
it don't mean anything to me
we start to die when we begin to breathe
but i'll keep scratching at your sympathy
i'll wander these white halls
scale all the walls for a thread of hope
wrap it around myself and cross my fingers i don't choke
i'd pray if it meant anything to me
one day i'll die and finally see what all the fuss us about
prepare yourself for the big sleep
it don't mean anything to me
we start to die when we begin to breathe
i'll keep scratching at your sympathy
until you're good and ready to leave
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until you fell a lot like me
with curved eyes i smile as a bad excuse sites next to you
grinning crooked teeth,
they'll all be gone soon
as the door handle swings
i'm having trouble hearing you
you think i'm crazy don't you
count your bones and cleam 'em good
it's come to this just like we knew it would
the world's become a hospital
will someone medicate us please?
i'd pray if it meant anything to me
one day i'll die and finally see what all the fuss is about
prepare yourself for the big sleep
it don't mean anything to me
we start to die when begin to breathe