| [00:14] |
Waiting in line, |
| [00:17] |
passing the time reading four-month old magazines. |
| [00:26] |
The pale walls given life by the florescent lights, |
| [00:32] |
exposing stains in the carpeting. |
| [00:36] |
|
| [00:39] |
And sitting at my side this mockery of life: |
| [00:44] |
a plastic plant strictly for tasteless decor. |
| [00:51] |
No one makes a sound |
| [00:54] |
but the sirens seeping through the space between the door and the floor. |
| [01:03] |
Well there's nothing left to say. |
| [01:07] |
The word's just collapse into |
| [01:10] |
colorful waves in the spectrum of sound |
| [01:15] |
and it's easy on the ears |
| [01:19] |
and it's nice to hear |
| [01:22] |
but it doesn't mean a thing. |
| [01:28] |
No it doesn't mean a thing. |
| [01:32] |
|
| [01:46] |
The silence breaks |
| [01:49] |
like a small earthquake shattering the calm - it's my name. |
| [01:58] |
The familiar scent of sterile instruments |
| [02:03] |
filters out from inside the hallway. |
| [02:09] |
|
| [02:10] |
Your chin falls towards your lap, you know you can't come back |
| [02:15] |
Just one more thing to make this a little bit harder. |
| [02:23] |
You'll wait for the turn out. |
| [02:26] |
Until then a sense of doubt hangs in the air like grief in a funeral parlor. |
| [02:35] |
Well there's nothing left to say. |
| [02:38] |
The word's just collapse into |
| [02:41] |
colorful waves in the spectrum of sound |
| [02:47] |
and it's easy on the ears |
| [02:50] |
and it's nice to hear |
| [02:53] |
but it doesn't mean a thing. |
| [03:00] |
No it doesn't mean, |
| [03:03] |
No it doesn't mean, |
| [03:06] |
No it doesn't mean a thing. |
| [03:12] |
|
| [03:36] |
So tell me I'm okay with no areas of gray. |
| [03:43] |
Tell me I can go, just don't say you don't know, |
| [03:49] |
because there's nothing I can't take like these areas of gray, |
| [03:55] |
so tell me I'm okay. |
| [04:02] |
|
| [04:10] |
|
| [04:16] |
|
| [01:02:30] |
|
| [02:34:30] |
|