Suzanne Vega



50-50 chance

The doctor said

In the cardiac room

As she's lying in bed



There's a pan on the floor

Filled with something black

I need to know

I'm afraid to ask



I hug you

I hum to you

I've come to you

I touch you



I tell you

I love you

I sing to you

Bring to you

Anything



Her little heart

It beats so fast

Her body trembles

With the effort to last



I hug you

I hum to you

I've come to you

I touch you



I tell you

I love you

I sing to you

Bring to you

Anything



She's going home

Tomorrow at ten

The question is

Will she try it again