The waiting or the waiting room
"You're next sir" becomes a 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 is it just to humor us before we die
(repair all my defects)
If only we could heal ourselves
We wouldn't.. need to be hooked up to these machines
Whoa whoa whoa...
Let's redefine (6x)
What it means to heal
Do they even cure you
(cut me open drug me)
Or is it just to humor us before we die
(repair all my defects)
If Only we could heal ourselves
We wouldn't.. need to be hooked up to these machines
Whoa whoa whoa...
I'm not sure what's worse The waiting or the waiting room "You're next sir" becomes a 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 is it just to humor us before we die (repair all my defects) If only we could heal ourselves We wouldn't.. need to be hooked up to these machines Whoa whoa whoa... Let's redefine (6x) What it means to heal Do they even cure you (cut me open drug me) Or is it just to humor us before we die (repair all my defects) If Only we could heal ourselves We wouldn't.. need to be hooked up to these machines Whoa whoa whoa... Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/a/alexisonfire/accidents.html
