Some would call me a medical miracle
I'm a failed experiment a best
Spent my youth in sterilized rooms, feelings of impending doom, and death across the hall
Doc saved my life with 2 years of meds and a damaged perspective
Hospital beds are now home to me, connect the IV, and I'll sleep peacefully

All I recall is the suffering
All I hold close is the suffering

For better or worse I beat the odds and managed to escape my mortality
Survival was a formality

Grab the scalpel
Chart your path
Grab the scalpel
Pierce my flesh

Some would call me a medical miracle
I'm a headcase at best
No remedy or chemotherapy can save me from myself
Try to be grateful for the years that I've had and the years down the line
But watching wounds heal takes second only to chasing lost time

I'm thankful for this heartbeat
It makes a beautiful sound
But I wonder, always wonder
"Would I feel better underground?"