I'm not sure what's worse
The waiting or the waiting room
"You're next sir" becomes cruel taunt to you
Recycled air, the smell of sleep and disinfectant
Your god is a two door elevator

Do they even cure you?
(Cut me open drug me) or it is just to humor us
(Repair all my defects) before we die
If only we could heal ourselves
We wouldn't need to be hooked up to these machines

[Repeat: x6]
Let's redefine
(what it means to heal)

Whoa whoa whoa

Do they even cure you?
(Cut me open drug me)or it is just to humor us
(Repair all my defects)before we die
If only we could heal ourselves
We wouldn't need to be hooked up to these machines

Whao whoa whoa

Writer : GREEN, DALLAS/INGELEVICS, JESSE/MACNEIL, WADE/PETTIT, GEORGE
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing