paroles de chanson Waiting List - Dr. Octagon
You
enter,
step
in
the
room,
four,
five
My
over
compressed
thoughts
and
ways
make
you
get
live
You
are
the
patient,
and
i,
your
black
doctor,
Medical
bills,
insurance,
cash
in
the
ceiling.
Dioxalyn
fingerprints
here
ever
since
I
got
my
white
suit
pressed,
out
the
cleaners,
X-ray
shades,
with
hard
shoes
and
some
razor
blades
Who's
the
brother
that's
sick,
and
needs
the
operation?
Bullets
removed
from
your
head,
grand
central
station
I
gotta
cut
off
your
ear,
first
behind
your
neck
Rip
out
the
stomach,
and
open
rectum's
to
dissect
Shine
the
light,
inside,
roaches
crawling
in
your
throat
I
have
no
tools,
my
hammer's
done,
my
drill
is
broked
I'm
the
doctor,
You
wait
on
the
waiting
list,
Patients
been
here
since
this
morning
I
dismiss.
*Scratched*'this
is
octagon?
(repeat
twice.)
Watching
people
vomit
green,
my
po-lig
is
lizard
pills
My
office
in
berbick,
I
had
the
bodies
in
beverley
hills.
Seeking
kimbles
and
bits,
a
girl
with
small
tits
Talking
to
herself,
her
dog,
and
having
rabid
fits
Green
fly
soup
in
on
the
way
from
the
kitchen,
troop
Looking
at
t.b
tuberculous
on
the
window
post
Ten
dead
dogs,
a
brown
fox
in
the
comatose
With
no
reps,
I
put
more
needles
in
they
kneecaps
Some
primitive
screws,
and
my,
yes
and
perhaps
A
little
sprinkle
of
clorox,
in
their
vocal
box
Some
pepto-bismol,
pepsi-cola,
pack
of
pop
rocks
Mix
it
all
together
with
bugs,
to
change
the
weather,
You
be
coughing
blue,
with
eyes
like
mr.
magoo
Straight
up
cartoon,
you're
bound
to
fall
out
real
soon.
(Chorus)
As
you
come
in
the
bright,
you
ride
the
orange
ambulance
Look
at
widows
and
pell
see
the
mental
patients
dance
Doin
six
and
seven,
steps
ladies
yells
dance
Upside
downside
with
walls
flyin?
through
the
hall/whore
Mr.
reeves/mysteries
with
yellow
bees
they
fly,
sting
your
face
You
out
there
bumps,
caught
up
with
a
acne
case
Plastic
surgery,
your
lawyer
now
refer
to
me
Giving
you
sketches,
exquisive
pictures
of
the
gill
man
What's
the
matter,
are
you
happy?
na
you're
I'll
man
Standin?
back,
you
choose
a
ticket,
My
spiritual
laws
of
vitamins
will
turn
your
face
wicked
You're
invited
to
ride
the
glide
to
your
homicide
(Chorus)
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