Из альбома: To the Confusion of Our Enemies

It's 6 a.m., out in the clinic line.
It's freezing cold, you may get told come back another time.
They can help you, but they can't help you for free.
Don't it make you uncomfortable? Dirty laundry, infected sore.
Rationale ain't sound anymore.
I don't care, don't give a fuck,
I'll be around, I'll be waiting...I know...
I know that nothing's entitled to me...
My health ain't part of your priority...

Stand in line. Hey!
Drill in again, On again, Off again, On again, Off again.
Miss a pill. Hey!
Withdraw again. On again, Off again, On again, off again.

Aim for the nerve, that'll hurt just fine.
Malignant, or is it begin?
Go see the Dr...but does the Dr. see me?
Once again, I'm still uncomfortable.
A little pain, goes with a little poor.
Guess I'm just not "down" anymore.
I don't care, don't give a fuck,
I'll be around, I'll be waiting...I know...

Stand in line. Hey!
Drill in again, On again, Off again, On again, Off again.
Miss a pill. Hey!
Withdraw again. On again, Off again, On again, off again.
Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie, gimmie, gimmie, gimmie,
gimme, gimmie this one, that one, this one, that one

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