Letra de Accidents (Live)
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 elevatorDo 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 machinesLet's redefine! Let's redefine! Let's redefine! Let's redefine! Let's redefine! Let's redefine! What it means to healDo 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