The High Altitudes of an Electronic Pulse

In the white, sterile and serene,
The floors polished to a high sheen.
The hospital and the medicinal scent
Pushing open the metal doors and,
I see him waiting for me within,
My brother, bald headed and needles,
Intertwined with skin, drawing blood,
Connected to machines bigger than him,
He motions for me to come nearer,
I see his life draining in liquids through,
Plastic pipes and into walls,
Where the mortician might collect it,
And store it vials marked with his name.
He whispers to me through cracked lips,
And vocal chords tired from screams.

There are moments in a young man's life,
Where the air grows bitter with time,
A failing sense of freedom and eyes,
That are just young enough to shine,
But behind that is the ivory glaze of the blind.
I said you must be miserable and he said,
Let me tell you something about misery.
It strips you of your last shreds of dignity,
Brings you to your knees in front of the weak,
To the point where you claw at the skin,
On your cheeks and you dig your nails,
Into your scalp until the hair falls out.
Until you have crescents of red dotting,
Your head and it stains your sheets,
And it drips down to your...

Let me tell you something about misery.
Oh, let me tell you something about misery.
He said I know a little about misery.

He starts to cough and he holds down the,
Button for more morphine and it starts,
Coming and so do the nurses who push me aside,
They give him a shot and I see him realize,
That his muscles now release the tension,
Making him heave and throw himself from the,
Mattress, they say he's getting better,
But I've never seen him worse for the wear.
They tell me he has a fighting chance,
And maybe he does but he's wanted to,
Die and retreat from these tubes and,
Surgical times. He'll be home soon,
But he has been through hell, and I'll,
Be the one who listens when he stares,
Into the sun strapped into his wheelchair...
He'll turn slowly and say...

Let me tell you something about misery.
Oh, let me tell you something about misery.
He said I know a little about misery.

Originally Posted by Crowquill Don't even bother trying to argue with me. I know more about music than you do.