Hospital year

Just one small tangle,
My fingers caught in your hair,
But my knifes still in my back.
(In your back)
I'm reaching for your hand,
But I've got nothing but air,
I've got nothing but air.

This toxins made itself at home,
And I welcomed it with open arms
But what you've left inside of me isn't quite enough to kill.

Take me from your bed
To the ambulance,
And drive me to the hospital.
Check me into the ICU,
And leave me there to die.

The hours they fade,
Yet the small hand sits in the same place,
I'm trying to reach your hand, but I've got nothing but air.