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