the waiting - speed on the beat lyrics
[verse one: speed on the beat]
we arrive at sinai, about 8:35
the head guy tells me prep for the worst
something that’ll be repeated in my head
as i rush back to give the nurse her date of birth
“lillian jeanette young, 11/11/49”
“217…,” we found her, speed, now you can step aside
head out to the waiting room, knowing that shit’s deep
but believing that mama young won’t send us up shit’s creek
john’s watching over me, more than he did when he lived
i guess that’s what happens when you’re his favorite kid
and he wasn’t supposed to have any, but you were his third
and the other two wanted me to burn like the earth
i’m spacing now, just tryna keep it together
depakote and clonidine kicked in, and i’m back; kinda leveled
and as i’m sitting here on my phone, trying to keep from fading
i know this is the hardest part. always the waiting
[skit: speed on the beat]
ok…maybe they’ve got some news now. it’s been, like, what? 5-10 minutes? i know…i don’t know that much about doctors…i get my…ya know, expertise from real life experiences and grey’s anatomy and stuff. but, like…something’s gotta, like. they’ve gotta have something, right?
[verse two: speed on the beat]
i get up to pee a couple times, just to piss time away
confident they’d say
“we could go ahead and bring your mother back.”
i wash up…do a bird’s bath in the bathroom
since i had to throw some clothes on and get in the cab
of the ambulance. i didn’t even have a chance to eat
they asked if i wanted something, i say “no, please
just take me to ms. jeanette. make sure she receives
all you can give her, even if she’s got to rest in peace”
playing some silly baseball game, on my note three
the baltimore team, they’re kinda the orioles…
they’re beating the other one 41 to thirteen
where’s the physics in that world?
how come everyone cranks homers like the last men on earth?
…d-mn logic, right?
i’m drained now, just trying to keep the faith
that my stepdad can make it here before my mother awakes
as i’m sitting here, the wait’s almost over
d-mn. doctor comes out, puts her hand on my shoulder like…
“still waiting for roland to get here…”
the doctor asks me my age…
when she did that, i already knew
those fears i had since six had concaved
onto my world. “mr. speed, we tried everything we could,”
they said…”but resuscitation efforts were unsuccessful”
we called it at 8:57 am…
ms. young had died…
age 65…
[outro]
d-mn. i’m still in disbelief. i’m just waiting…
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