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There´s something wrong with Sarah.
Not as vital as before.
Across the room I meet her glance.
Something is not there anymore.

Across the room, I meet her glance.
With no hair and fifty percent chance.
Something is eating her from inside.
''Tumors like grapes'', the doctor sighed.

I bow my head, afraid to talk.
She smiles in sympathy, pale as chalk.
I hold her hand as they wheel her in.
Kiss her on the forehead, a voice so thin:
''You´ll be outta here in no time, my love.''
I know I´m lying as I see the man with rubber glove.
(The expression on his face.)

See her on the operating table again.
Wrapped in plastic and writhing in pain.
Then I become her,they are opening me up.
In a green room with red stains, I´m begging them to stop.

Nervous eyes and green mask.
Holding me down, performing their task.
''Don´t let me die'' hear myself scream.
Surely hope this is a dream.
They sew me shut and wheel me out.
''Don´t let me die''
Hear myself shout.

In spasms she cries, she bites her lip.
Look at the scar over her hip.
Her family´s here, but she´s too weak.
They cannot hear a word that she speak.
Nurses tell them they have to go.
If she´ll survive, they do not know.
With red eyes and a cramped smile, they finally leave her alone for a while.

I hold your hand and wait for you to wake.
For heaven´s and my own sake.
Is there a justice in dying?
I don`t think so.
Minutes passing so very slow.
I fall asleep onto a deep, dark sphere.
When I wake, you are not there.

It´s time to face Reality, boy.
With Reality kicking, overcome with joy.
Like a deranged child in a perverted game.
And you know there is no-one to blame.
Degenerate, Regenerate.
Degenerate, Regenerate.

© Karstein Volle

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