Spinning wheels and folding metal
Wake up to total disarray
Broken glass and running water
And the eyes that tell you no more or less
Than your other busted senses
Hear the shouts of pain beside you
Get told not to move your head
All the better for it
As there’s nothing you can do
But wait between the glass and plastic
Count the voices filter in
Never hear the one behind you
And your own sounds strangely quiet
The echos of command from somewhere
Proceed the blanket over your head
The muted sounds of saws and scraping
Like some twisted demolition
Too far away to be above you
And yet that canvas falls between
Much like the great green canopy
That you can’t tell where ends or begins
Just that it rose to hold you somehow
From floating lost away below
All the rushing, all the voices
The chipping, chopping, whirring blades
All rise in place of the silence
The third voice that you know should be
Stuck inside that moving prison
The folded steel and plexiglass
A crack in the windshield all your mind catches
And the sound of the man telling you not to move
You hear the distance to the chopper
Waiting to be your lifeline
You know the voice you heard beside you
Has been sent to better days
But as the time grows ever longer
And soon falls your freedom ride
You know that voice you never heard
You’ll never hear again.