The Weakerthans
Hymn of the Medical Oddity
Oh, all the words I should not know
Those doctors wrote on me
Swell up and from their syllable
Won't let me get to sleep

The sun will start late and clock out early

And I'll drive around and wait for it
Follow familiar roads
Emptied of every memory
Under a sheet of silence and unmarked snow

Then idle in some parking lot
Smoke half a smoke and ask
St. Boniface and St. Vital
Preserve me from my past

Repair our potholes, prevent plant closures

And if they remember me at all
Make them remember me
As more than a queer experiment
More than a diagram in their quarterly

Make them remember me