Waiting Room
The Narrative Lyrics


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Waiting in line,
Passing the time reading four month old magazines.
The pale walls given life by the florescent lights,
Exposing stains in the carpeting.

And sitting at my side this mockery of life:
A plastic plant strictly for tasteless decor.
No one makes a sound
But the sirens seeping through the space between the door and the floor.

Well there's nothing left to say.
The word's just collapse into
Colorful waves in the spectrum of sound
And it's easy on the ears
And it's nice to hear
But it doesn't mean a thing.
No it doesn't mean a thing.

The silence breaks
Like a small earthquake shattering the calm - it's my name.
The familiar scent of sterile instruments
Filters out from inside the hallway.

Your chin falls towards your lap, you know you can't come back
Just one more thing to make this a little bit harder.
You'll wait for the turn out.
Until then a sense of doubt hangs in the air like grief in a funeral parlor.

Well there's nothing left to say.
The word's just collapse into
Colorful waves in the spectrum of sound
And it's easy on the ears
And it's nice to hear
But it doesn't mean a thing.
No it doesn't mean,
No it doesn't mean,
No it doesn't mean a thing.

So tell me I'm okay with no areas of gray.
Tell me I can go, just don't say you don't know,




Because there's nothing I can't take like these areas of gray,
So tell me I'm okay.

Overall Meaning

The Narrative's "Waiting Room" is a powerful and emotional depiction of the anxiety and uncertainty that accompanies waiting for news in a hospital waiting room. The song's opening lyrics set a desolate scene, with the singer sitting in a waiting room filled with "pale walls" and "four month old magazines". The plastic plant next to the singer is a "mockery of life", and the only sound that can be heard is the distant "sirens seeping through the space between the door and the floor." The scene is heavy with tension and uncertainty, as the singer waits for news that could change their life forever.


The chorus of the song is an introspective reflection on the nature of language and communication. The words spoken in the waiting room "collapse into colorful waves in the spectrum of sound", revealing the ways in which language can be inadequate in moments of crisis. The colorful waves are "easy on the ears" and "nice to hear", but ultimately "it doesn't mean a thing." The desperate need for answers and clarity is conveyed in the final lines of the chorus: "So tell me I'm okay with no areas of gray / Tell me I can go, just don't say you don't know."


The song's final verse returns to the waiting room, where the scent of "sterile instruments" filters out from the hallway. The singer braces themselves for bad news and the "sense of doubt hangs in the air like grief in a funeral parlor." The song ends with a final plea for clarity, as the singer begs to be told that they're okay, even if it means facing areas of gray.


Line by Line Meaning

Waiting in line,
Standing in a queue, waiting for your turn.


Passing the time reading four month old magazines.
Trying to kill time by reading old magazines lying around.


The pale walls given life by the florescent lights,
The boring walls come to life with the help of fluorescent lights.


Exposing stains in the carpeting.
The lights reveal the stains present on the carpet.


And sitting at my side this mockery of life:
A fake plant placed for decoration mocks your existence.


A plastic plant strictly for tasteless decor.
The plant is there only for decoration and doesn't have any real purpose.


No one makes a sound
Everyone is quiet and doesn't say a word.


But the sirens seeping through the space between the door and the floor.
The only sound heard is the siren noise that leaks from the outside world through the door.


Well there's nothing left to say.
There is not much to talk about anymore.


The word's just collapse into
Words lose their meaning and blend together.


Colorful waves in the spectrum of sound
The words that blend turn into a colorful wave of sound.


And it's easy on the ears
The sound is pleasing and calming to the ear.


And it's nice to hear
The sound is good to listen to.


But it doesn't mean a thing.
Despite being pleasing, the sound does not convey anything.


The silence breaks
The quietness is shattered.


Like a small earthquake shattering the calm - it's my name.
Your name is called out, causing a commotion.


The familiar scent of sterile instruments
The smell of clean medical instruments is recognizable.


Filters out from inside the hallway.
The smell is emanating from the hallway.


Your chin falls towards your lap, you know you can't come back
You feel dejected and know there is no going back.


Just one more thing to make this a little bit harder.
The situation gets more difficult with the passage of time.


You'll wait for the turn out.
You'll keep waiting for your turn to arrive.


Until then a sense of doubt hangs in the air like grief in a funeral parlor.
Until then, uncertainty is in the atmosphere, much like sadness at a funeral home.


Tell me I'm okay with no areas of gray.
Ask me if I'm alright without any ambiguity.


Tell me I can go, just don't say you don't know,
You can tell me if I'm free to go, just don't say you're unsure.


Because there's nothing I can't take like these areas of gray,
I can handle anything but not ambiguity.


So tell me I'm okay.
So let me know that I'm fine.




Contributed by Chase G. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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Most interesting comment from YouTube:

@JhonedisonCristancho27

lyrics of Waiting Room
:)

Waiting in line
Passing the time reading four month old magazines
The pale walls given life by the florescent lights
Exposing stains in the carpeting

And sitting at my side this mockery of life:
A plastic plant strictly for tasteless decor
No one makes a sound
But the sirens seeping through the space between the door and the floor

Well there's nothing left to say
The word's just collapse into
Colorful waves in the spectrum of sound
And it's easy on the ears
And it's nice to hear
But it doesn't mean a thing
No it doesn't mean a thing

The silence breaks
Like a small earthquake shattering the calm - it's my name
The familiar scent of sterile instruments
Filters out from inside the hallway

Your chin falls towards your lap, you know you can't come back
Just one more thing to make this a little bit harder
You'll wait for the turn out
Until then a sense of doubt hangs in the air like grief in a funeral parlor

Well there's nothing left to say
The word's just collapse into
Colorful waves in the spectrum of sound
And it's easy on the ears
And it's nice to hear
But it doesn't mean a thing
No it doesn't mean
No it doesn't mean
No it doesn't mean a thing

So tell me I'm okay with no areas of gray
Tell me I can go, just don't say you don't know
Because there's nothing I can't take like these areas of gray
So tell me I'm okay



All comments from YouTube:

@wanrizkifh

when i close my eyes while listening this sing, i imagine like i'm in a coffee shop on the rainy day, looking at the window and waiting for someone i don't know

Love this band so much

@MonumentToSin

This is my favorite song by The Narrative. It's sad and haunting... it perfectly conveys the gut-wrenching, helpless feelings of watching your loved ones waste away in the hospital...

@123Sunshinexox

I wish more people knew about this band- but at the same time I don't want the knowledge of this band to lose its preciousness!!!  I'm so glad I found this band- thank for the amazing music <3

@cowgba

I understand the "this is my special secret band" mentality, but please share them with as many people as possible. I get the impression they're struggling to keep making music and stay profitable, and they really deserve attention for all their hard work.

@smilescomeforfree5855

+cowgba Yes!
I fear they might not stay around if we don't publicise.

@JhonedisonCristancho27

lyrics of Waiting Room
:)

Waiting in line
Passing the time reading four month old magazines
The pale walls given life by the florescent lights
Exposing stains in the carpeting

And sitting at my side this mockery of life:
A plastic plant strictly for tasteless decor
No one makes a sound
But the sirens seeping through the space between the door and the floor

Well there's nothing left to say
The word's just collapse into
Colorful waves in the spectrum of sound
And it's easy on the ears
And it's nice to hear
But it doesn't mean a thing
No it doesn't mean a thing

The silence breaks
Like a small earthquake shattering the calm - it's my name
The familiar scent of sterile instruments
Filters out from inside the hallway

Your chin falls towards your lap, you know you can't come back
Just one more thing to make this a little bit harder
You'll wait for the turn out
Until then a sense of doubt hangs in the air like grief in a funeral parlor

Well there's nothing left to say
The word's just collapse into
Colorful waves in the spectrum of sound
And it's easy on the ears
And it's nice to hear
But it doesn't mean a thing
No it doesn't mean
No it doesn't mean
No it doesn't mean a thing

So tell me I'm okay with no areas of gray
Tell me I can go, just don't say you don't know
Because there's nothing I can't take like these areas of gray
So tell me I'm okay

@timmytoms__

Thank you precious soul! :)

@Domeneeek

Everytime I listen to this, I feel these butterflies in my stomach. And it feels amazing!

@adaobiogbo6627

Well there is nothing left to say, The words just collapse into spectrum of waves in a colourful sound 😍

@bellaalessi4057

I'm always stressed out and this band means the world to me its been two years of this song calming me down

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