Morning walking is like a hospital room
The getting up and feeling sorry for sleep
Putting my fat body into a cab and going to the hospital
The smell of soup and pus everywhere
Not telling hardly anyone for fear they’d kill my child like I almost had
Listening to my headphones, dreaming of surprise
Little ego in the hospital, does it care where you’ve been
We carry status, but it doesn’t care
Still it pays for you to have an expensive room
And the nurses and everyone, they treat you better