Even if you put the seat belt around you both.
Even if you hold on to her as tightly as you can.
Even if you think you're only driving down the road.
It's a stupid thing to do.
When we come to get you out of your car.
When we have to cut the roof off, and you out of it.
When we think that a five-seat car only has five passengers.
It's a horrible thing to be proved wrong.
As the noise of the cutters finally stops.
As the chaos of the rescue comes to an end.
As the ambulances start to take you all away.
It's a dreadful thing to hear your scream.
Just when we thought that you were all safe.
Just when we thought it was time to leave.
Just when we thought that all the harm was already done.
It's a moment of horror as we find there's one more.
And she lies there, in the foot well, as if she's asleep.
And she lies there, in the foot well, no lap keeping her still.
And she lies there, in the foot well, killed by the one sworn to protect her.
It's then that you realise. But by then it's too late.