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 door

There was a man with little movement

I knew I'd seen him here before

The people with the children were sick to death and would wait no more

The world it can't be moving

It's been two thousand years or

Have I stopped breathing?

Have I stopped believing?

Believe me, I

He must've talked for forever

I think they finally turned away

And I was thinking to myself I should have plenty more to say

And some were getting very restless

Some were filling up the days

I was hoping that the girl with the curl would be safe

The world it can't be moving

It's been two thousand years or

Have I stopped breathing?

Have I stopped believing?

Believe me, I

Just want to have the patience of a saint who waits at the gate

Please don't be late

The floors are giving in

The walls are getting thin

The clock is moving slow

My breathing comes and goes

The room is getting small

The sin is growing tall

We wait for the day

We wait for the day

The world it can't be moving

It's been two thousand years or

Have I stopped breathing?

Have I stopped believing?

Believe me, I

Just want to have the patience of a saint who waits at the gate

Please don't be late

She 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 bleed

There was a man with little substance

I know I'd seen him here indeed

The people with the children spoke so soft to confess their need

And some are getting hopeless

Some are filling up the days

I am hoping on a promise, on a gift, and so I wait