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Sitting in the backseat, empty bottles all around.
Lying on the concrete, crying face down.
Driving down his street,
She lays across his seats.
Carry her up the stairs,
While the rest of the world recites their prayers.
Who’s fault is this?
It should be theirs.
Her crys she confessed.
From the pain, he guessed.
Now lying in his bed,
Her body all wrapped up in red.
He shivers,
Her lips quiver.
The bed is flood,
With her blue-red blood.
The crashed car outside,
gives them every reason to hide.
Sitting in the back seat
empty bottles on the ground.
Crying on the concrete.
Lying face down.
He held her tight,
as she fought her life fight.
The sun goes up, and now it’s dawn.
She’s one more life that’s been withdrawn.
