Out on a limb at least
Without a wait in line
Only the daylight speaks
And every word goes
All in the left ear
One word one in front of you
Call to the cold here
Un-hold my hand
Worn on a torn sleeve
Wide-open to surgery
Torn open curtain
A-hold of head
Under a one-way mirror
With or without your clothes
There in a sterile sheet
Someone to stare in
If I was a doctor
I would never ask you where
Where to be treated
Al-ready told
In love or in labour
I've nothing to give to you
No more favors
A-hold of head