The car stops suddenly. As the picture flies from your hand, you see the large oak behind it. You've drifted off the side of the road and, for a single excrutiatingly long moment, you're watching your car crumple against this arboreal monolith. Your seatbelt holds you in place, and your airbags immediately burst to readiness, so you stay firmly held, but it doesn't do you much good. The car has been compacted with you inside. Pain hits you as an explosion of sensation, though nothing explodes. As the airbag slowly deflates, you begin to locate the main source of your pain as a weight on your chest, but you can't inspect it; your arms won't move. Your legs won't move, either. Even more concerning is that your lungs don't seem to be functioning, either. The radio's still working, though. Even as your vision fades to darkness, you can still hear the words:
Lost in the coldYou were always so lost in the darkRemembering you...