A little dental music,
strings a strumming,
flutes a trilling.
Numbing minds and calming nerves,
while steps away, the beast is drilling.
Muzak in the lobby,
helps the patients to ignore.
The fact that writhing agony,
waits right behind the door.
Castaladits,Hang Mancini,
Gordon Jankins, Brandi and Taisre.
Low the mormon tabernakle sings…
The sound of pain is muted,
by a thousand living strings.
A little dental music,
your appointments for eleven.
But you’ll be waiting here till noon.
The soothing strains of Andre Previn.
Next it’s Mantavini,
after him you couldn’t care.
You’re in for brutal torture
when it’s your turn.
When it’s your turn
(«Next»)
It’s your turn, in the chair.
