Who’s gonna hold your hand
When you die, when your white knuckles
fade to black and you exit this horrorshow
to become just another number
in the trainwreck.
Another statistic in a report
Another Mask among the Faceless.
Who’s gonna be with you
for all the fear
for all the doubts,
Who is it that will come plunging in
when you go crashing through the ice?
And when you stand alone against the hurricane
and there is no hope of coming out alive
Will they turn and run?
Or take your hand
Sporting that same
Fuck You stare
And brace for impact.
Who’s gonna hold your hand when you die?
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