落ち着いたムードから緊迫感溢れるムードへ

歌詞

(And this is about Ward 7A, San Francisco General Hospital.)

It's noon, and we are going through the motions of eating, ingesting quantities of foodlike matter like food really matters at noon when smoke break is in 30 minutes, and each one of us registered, uniformed bodies will line up like soldiers, rationed fags in hand, inpatient for a glimpse of sunlight.
Four breaks during the day, four instants of day breaking into our separate darknesses (Light like an orphan's birthday candle dancing its candle-dance for the sake of make-believe justice)
And we will make the basketball bounce, and we will pick blades of grass and crumple them into little perfect planets.
And we will listen to the hacking of the oldest man as he searches for the freshest cigarette butt to smoke shamelessly to the filter.
And we will talk of doctors and discharge, 5150's and ADU's, thorazine and imipramine...
May I sit by you for a while? You look so sane for being crazy.
And one of us will sing a Dylan song, and some of us will join in, and we'll think we're in the park -- there, in the outside, and one of us will die for a drink or a joint or a shot, and another will pace in her sunlight and speak to her voices about God and redemption.
We will bounce and pick and talk and sing and wish and dream of escape.
And when they set us free, we will still be looking for the exit.