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The Waiting Room

She was staring at the ceiling

I was staring at the floor

He was fixed in thought and wonder

Of what lied behind the doorThere was a man with little movement

I knew Id seen him here before

The people with the children were sick to death

And would wait no moreThe world, it cant be moving

Its been two thousand years or

Have I stopped breathing?

Have I stopped believing?

Believe me, IHe mustve talked for forever

I think they finally turned away

And I was thinking to myself

I should have plenty more to sayAnd some were getting very restless

Some were filling up the days

I was hoping that the girl

With the curl would be safeThe world, it cant be moving

Its been two thousand years or

Have I stopped breathing?

Have I stopped believing?

Believe me, IJust want to have the patience of a saint

Who waits at the gate

Please dont be lateThe floors are giving in

The walls are getting thin

The clock is moving slow

My breathing comes and goesThe room is getting small

The sin is growing tall

We wait for the day

We wait for the dayThe world, it cant be moving

Its been two thousand years or

Have I stopped breathing?

Have I stopped believing?

Believe me, IJust want to have the patience of a saint

Who waits at the gate

Please dont be lateShe was full of good intentions

I was full with all my greed

He was holding out his hands

As if to give, as if to bleedThere was a man with little substance

I know Id seen him here indeed

The people with the children spoke so soft

To confess their needAnd some are getting hopeless

Some are filling up the days

I am hoping on a promise, on a gift

And so I wait

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