Letras
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
Whoa, whoa-whoa
Let's redefine! Let's redefine!
Let's redefine! Let's redefine!
Let's redefine! Let's redefine!
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
Whoa, whoa-whoa
