Accidents
Morada do Sol
Continues after the ad
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 elavator
Do they even cure you
(CUT ME OPEN DRUG ME)
Or is it just to humour 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 ...
Continues after the ad
Let's redefine ...
What it means to heal
Do they even cure you
(CUT ME OPEN DRUG ME)
Or is it just to humour 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
Whao whoa whoa ...