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