Command+Z

It doesn't happen to people as we
This harrowing sense of tragedy

Lucky to 've lived above the fray
In sheltered harbor shun dismay

Our pristine histories, pristine homes
Our gifted minds and healthy bones

Though obsessed with unending perfection
Incurred but one poorly chosen exception

And within an instant never more
Seen exempt from desolate horror

The headlights turned on a blessed lot
Beyond sorrow's reach now suddenly caught

To get back that night, its ill-fated ending
To give back a life and another defending

No recovery awaits from what has been lost
Soul-wrenching despair the inevitable cost