Lyrics

The Waiting Room

So we take the elevator. "Would you please push number three?"
And we all get out together: this young couple, mom, and me
Headed in the same direction; round a corner, through the door
To a room in which we?ve waited now a dozen times or more

Though some faces are familiar, we never seem to say hello
We sign her in up at the counter. "Have a seat. We?ll let you know."
And we establish our position near this lamp I?ve grown to hate
With our patients in remission in this room in which we wait

There?s a man come dressed for business. No, he doesn?t have the time
To sit idle in admitting when denial suits him fine
So he cordons off a corner. "Can I get an outside line?"
He?ll be damned if his condition cut?s into his overtime

And the couple we came in with tell us it?s their first time here
Striking out in conversation, trying to dissipate the fear
She says: "the lump I found in April, the results weren?t all that great
Bringing us for consultation, to this room in which we wait."

All these disconnected faces, with profiles naked, gaunt, and pail
Start to slowly show some color, as one by one recounts a tail
He?s a student here at Towson. She was a nurse in Vietnam
He?s a banker, she?s a teacher, he?s a painter, she?s my mom

They?ve been handed down a verdict with a sentence up to fate
Doing hard time up at Hopkins in a room in which we wait

And a voice calls out "Ramona" so we rise to relocate
To renew our isolation, to a room in which we wait.