Accidents Alexisonfire

[Verse]
Not sure what's worse
The wait, 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

[Chorus]
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
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)
We wouldn't
Need to be hooked up to these machines
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)

[Interlude]
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)