People have so many questions that they keep on asking me
and I dont have the time to answer them adequately
People ask what's it like to have a disabled sister?
and I say, ah, pause, um, excuse me mister
actually I'm disabled too, I've got a few screw looses
screw everyone who hears disabled and thinks chair
who thinks broken bones and hospital care.
Screw everyone who heard disabled with a capital D
thinking it meant unable to do anything properly.
Disabled and unable they just mean one thing
That theres one thing you cant do and many you still can
and all the things my sister did its easy to forget
'cos she didn't walk, didn't talk, didn't know how yet.
Didn't get the chance to learn before she died,
maybe it took her a little longer but heaven knows she tried
and on good days in the summer if you taught her bit by bit
she'd grace us with a smile and say my name - Kit.
But if your asking the difference between mind and body, how
how her body didn't work and my brain still doesn't now
how did it feel to have her wilt before my eyes
while I stay here and struggle with a life that I despise...
I can't breathe, and she's on an incubator
I try not to see it but I can't help but hate her
'cos while I'm dying and gasping for breath
she gets all the love and the care and the death
and people like to say 'well at least you get to live'
but that was never her gift to me to give
and I never even wanted to live this life without her
I just wanna smell her hair and her talcum powder.
I jut wanna see the sun lit her hair a halo again
I just want to hold her, say 'I love you' and then
I just want to die, so ny last breaths of her
but that doesn't give her more life, it doesn't transfer
if there was a way then I would, and I could, but I can't
and you might hear words from some dumb sycophant
but I know the truth and the truth here is this
if my death meant she lived, I just wouldn't exist