White tiles gleam in a sterile row
Where the slow paced patients go
Clipboards held in a shaking hand
In a strange and plastic land
Oh the queue is a winding line
Waiting for a lucky sign
Pay the fee and take the pill
While the ticking clock stands still
One has a lightbulb in his head
Where a simple thought was dead
One has a foot that looks like a pear
Walking with a vacant stare
Oh the queue is a winding line
Waiting for a lucky sign
Pay the fee and take the pill
While the ticking clock stands still
Glass walls hide the doctor's view
Everything is bright and new
Rubber floors and a lemon scent
Wondering where the budget went
Hold your breath in the cold hallway
We will find a better way
Small machines hum a steady tune
Underneath a paper moon
Scribble notes on a yellow sheet
Where the hope and the worry meet
One more test for a funny bone
In a world we call our own
Oh the queue is a winding line
Waiting for a lucky sign
Pay the fee and take the pill
While the ticking clock stands still
Clean the floors till the surface glows
How the healing magic goes
Cure the glitch with a quick design
Keep the waiting room in line
Oh the queue is a winding line
Waiting for a lucky sign
Pay the fee and take the pill
While the ticking clock stands still
Next in line.
Step right in.
