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You ran across the yard and turned your back |
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Your brother he watched and in the grass he sat |
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The neighbor kid with a loaded gun and car |
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He fired a shot and the bullet grazed your heart |
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The doctors they watched you close and held their breath |
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And some would believe in a miracle they witnessed |
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The bullet stopped short and broke one of your ribs |
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A hospital bed and a second chance to live |
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You're closer to death |
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The neighbors - they left, ashamed of what he did |
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Their son, they hid |
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And all of the rest - your days that are left - upon your chest: a scar |
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A gift; your heart never stopped |
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I was afraid of what a friend told me |
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A burst of light and the harsh reality |
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He could recall a voice so comforting |
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But still it was hard to know what to believe |
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I looked away as my head absorbed the facts |
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And ran through the house until I reached the back |
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I couldn't help but be taken with the fear |
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It's unavoidable but he is always near |
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I was closer to death |
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And I would have guessed it was my turn to go |
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He told me so |
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And the all of the rest of my days that are left - upon my chest: a scar |
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A gift; my heart never stopped |
