I don't own the show, characters, or song. However the story itself is mine. The song is called "Another World."
--Utopia Is Just A Word.
I used to love my job, to be a
modern day Superman to save the day from all evil. A freshed face rookie eager to learn and get right out
there. Years later, thousands of calls
I just want to rip this cape off. Dead wives, drunk husbands, bleeding children;
this isn't fun. But I see it everyday
so often I fear that I am unable to feel emotion over it.
She lives in one small room
Over the convienent store
She had big plans once
She doesn't have them anymore
A few minutes before the shift was to end we received a
call and against Carlos objections responded. A crack house with he only
occupants being drunk dealers and 2-dollar hookers. We had been here before and surely would be here again. On the third floor and a broken door I saw
her. All dolled up ready for a night
out on the town, the movies or dinner perhaps.
At least that's where I hope she was off to and not the back seat of
someone's car. She was dead.
Got lil' diamonds in her ears
But she's got coal in her eyes
It's been night so long now
She doesn't think the sun will rise
No hope, no medicine could change that. We didn't belong here; we're supposed to
save them. Not bring out the body
bags. Blood I see it everyday, at
nearly every call and still can't get used to the sight of it. There's so much of it, so dark and gives a
unique scent that you'll never watch away from your memory. One shot to the back of the head, thank God
not at point blank range. This way
she's able to keep her face and I don't have to see bones and muscle. Carlos was started to bitch and make
comments, again not thinking of what should or shouldn't be said. He's wants to leave; the coroner will take
care of the mess. I want; no I need to
stay to understand her story and how she reached this point. I owed to her, all my other calls that I
lost sympathy for, but I mainly I needed this.
And she askes
This can't be all there is
There must be something more
There must be a better place
Where were her parents?
Did they miss and think about her?
Or was she one of those run a ways that had been lost from their
parent's love long before? Did she hate
herself from leading a life such as this?
In situations like this it ables yourself to say thank you for all your
miracles granted to you. The kitchen
pantry is empty one loaf of bread starting to mold lies on the counter. How long had that been her lunch and
diner? Tonight's redohour might have
been her ticket out, get paid enough money to buy a ticket to the other side f
town. She could her ticket to the
greatest place imaginable, still it didn't seem fair.
Looking for another world
I'm not sure we should
I'm not sure salvation lies there
How I am to understand her decisions and those of one's
just like her? I have never lived a day
in those shoes, never saw the world from that position. Carlos has left to sit on the bus alone,
away from me. Her hair was brown and
matched her eyes; it was like a picture and not a person. Only if I had a large enough eraser to
remove the blood stains.
There is bad as well as good
So let us love each other now
As if this world is all there is
My first call and my last call of tonight end in
death. I'm starting to think is there
anything else? The patients could have
been any different; ages, sex, race, circumstance, and social position. That doesn't matter those, none of it
matters. Why do I go chasing after
people's pain just to see I can do nothing?
But a voice deep inside let's me know I do it for those who do make
it. The scared children in car accents,
the elderly who slipped and fall. Just
I am really starting to hate fighting against death.
He wanted to believe
In the dreams he held so dear
He swam against the tide
But he was drowning in his fear
Do insurance accents or nanny's think about their lives and
more importantly deaths? I have to, I
mean how can't I when it's all I know?
Good will always triumph over evil. Or I have been told that. If it' true I don't want to say, but I have
my doubts.
Along the lost horizon
The goal keep shrinking down in size
It's been night so long now
He doesn't think the sun will rise
Taking one last glance onto the nameless stranger, who will
sadly in all likely hood remain Jane Doe; I leave the room. Screams from an argument fill the hallway located
behind a door on the other side. Never
stops, the screaming, death, lies, an endless cycle. I ignore it while hoping that they don't need paramedic or police
assistance later on.
And he asks
Is this all there is
There must be something more
There must be a better place
On nights like this the idea of becoming one of those
insurance salesmen sounds pretty damn nice.
Put in my two-week notice and join Sarah and become like those people on
TV shows. Married, kids, supper ready
to be eaten when you walk into the door, and everything is solved in a half an
hour. Does that world exist?
Looking for another world
I'm not sure we should
I'm not sure salvation lies there
Carlos is sitting behind the heel; I'm not in the mood to
tell him to move. So I grant him
permission to drive away. The streets
are empty, even the usual midnight crowd was gone. Nothing belonged in this world that I knew of.
There is bad as well as good
Let us love each other now
As if this world is all there is
She would never be whole again, never would speak
again. If I had known her before could
I have been her savior? Or would I have
I had past judgment like all the rest before?
What I would like to say I would of done is nothing but a lie. But why?
At what point did I become better than anyone else? Or was I too busy locked up inside of myself
to see it swallow me whole?
Lying here beside you
I wonder what will become of us
Of you and me
Ooh of all of us
Carlos tries to speak to me, I don't know why or about
what. There just sounds with no meaning
or substance. Does he feel the way I
do? Try to find solutions to the
world's trouble? Or I am the only
superman left here? Too bad I still
have to learn how to fly.
So many dangers
Ooooh
So much at stake
Knifes, guns, hands all equal death. All equal another way to show you're the
bigger man. And I have to clean up the
pieces while trying not to pass judgment.
I'm scared of what I can not see
My love I am so scared
Of this world and how I will never understand
it. Even on happy ending calls all I
can think about is one day they'll die too.
And I hate that!
I'll help you if I can
I believe I've got to try
We all have our parts to play
And I am playing mine
But who will help me?
Who will teach me that I can't blame myself for every lost victim? So I just ride around with my black bag
desperate to deliver hope to those in need.
It was the role I was born for.
I don't know about another world
What beyond this curtin lies
Not saying I like or even want it. I do at times, many times. Just not like this, nobody would want
anything like this. I can't walk away
because I keep on thinking to my rookie days.
When I still believed in good, I keep on wishing that hope will return.
I know It's been night a long time
But one day the sun will rise
Yes one day the sun will rise!
One day that day will come again. Until than I'll think about the Jane and John Doe's. The dead husbands, drunk wives and non-innocent
children. Even though I hate too, but
it's all I know.
