Chimaira

Eleven five, ninety-four, six thirty, morning
Woke up panicked, sweating, with a mouth full of vomit
No idea what could be wrong
Blew it off as this illness was common
Went back to sleep, then the phone rings
Fell to the ground
As the news was haunting... haunting
Lazarus ended his life, ungodly sacrifice, no reason why
Eleven eight, ninety-four, six thirty evening
The first time we're seeing Lazarus unconscious
Dressed in the clothes he loved
Laid out with all of his favorites