July 27, 2009

Redistributing the Health

octagoncover1.jpg"I'm the Doctor. You wait on the Waiting List!" The short and simple annals of the poor often record the keenest insights into what's in store for the rest of us in our Brave New Dystopia. They've been showing up to be on the government, free health-care waiting list for decades. We're next.

Listen to this chilling Obamacare anthem @ Blip.fm | Vanderleun | Dr. Octagon – Waiting List

Here are the lyrics from Kool Keith's 1996 solo album Dr. Octagonecologyst

You enter, step in the room, four, five
My over compressed thoughts and ways make you get live
You are the patient, and i, your black doctor,
Medical bills, insurance, cash in the ceiling.
Dioxalyn fingerprints here ever since
I got my white suit pressed, out the cleaners,
X-ray shades, with hard shoes and some razor blades
Who's the brother that's sick, and needs the operation?
Bullets removed from your head, grand central station
I gotta cut off your ear, first behind your neck
Rip out the stomach, and open rectum's to dissect
Shine the light, inside, roaches crawling in your throat
I have no tools, my hammer's done, my drill is broked
I'm the doctor,
You wait on the waiting list,
Patients been here since this morning I dismiss.

Watching people vomit green, my po-lig is lizard pills My office in berbick, I had the bodies in beverley hills. Seeking kimbles and bits, a girl with small tits Talking to herself, her dog, and having rabid fits Green fly soup in on the way from the kitchen, troop Looking at t.b tuberculous on the window post Ten dead dogs, a brown fox in the comatose With no reps, I put more needles in they kneecaps Some primitive screws, and my, yes and perhaps A little sprinkle of clorox, in their vocal box Some pepto-bismol, pepsi-cola, pack of pop rocks Mix it all together with bugs, to change the weather, You be coughing blue, with eyes like mr. magoo Straight up cartoon, you're bound to fall out real soon.
I'm the doctor, You wait on the waiting list, Patients been here since this morning I dismiss. *scratched*'this is octagon? (repeat twice.)
As you come in the bright, you ride the orange ambulance Look at widows and pell see the mental patients dance Doin six and seven, steps ladies yells dance Upside downside with walls flyin? through the hall/whore Mr. reeves/mysteries with yellow bees they fly, sting your face You out there bumps, caught up with a acne case Plastic surgery, your lawyer now refer to me Giving you sketches, exquisive pictures of the gill man What's the matter, are you happy? na you're I'll man Standin? back, you choose a ticket, My spiritual laws of vitamins will turn your face wicked You're invited to ride the glide to your homicide.
Posted by Vanderleun at July 27, 2009 12:54 PM
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