(+) Calm Waiting Room Music
Waiting in line,
passing the time reading four
month old magazines
The pale walls given life by the florescent lights,
exposing stains in the carpeting
And sitting at my side this mockery of life;
a plastic plant strictly for tasteless decor
No one makes a sound
but the sirens seeping through the space
between the door and the floor
Well there's nothing left to say,
the words just collapse into
colorful waves in the spectrum of sound
and it's easy on the ears
and it's nice to hear
but it doesn't mean a thing
No it doesn't mean a thing
The silence breaks
like a small earthquake shattering the calm
it's my name
And the familiar scent of sterile instruments
filters out from inside the hallway
Your chin falls towards your lap,
you know you can't come back,
just one more thing to make this a little bit harder
You'll wait for the turn out,
until then a sense of doubt hangs in the air
like grief in a funeral parlor
Where there's nothing left to say,
the words just collapse into
colorful waves in the spectrum of sound
and it's easy on the ears
and it's nice to hear
but it doesn't mean a thing
No it doesn't mean,
No it doesn't mean,
No it doesn't mean a thing
So tell me I'm okay with no areas of gray
Tell me I can go, just don't say you don't know,
because there's nothing I can't take
like these areas of gray,
so tell me I'm okay