Off - white walls full of leaflets and pamphlets​
The bolted - down hard wooden chairs
To get through the glass door we need a code and an escort
A Nurse to take us from here to there

On both sides of the glass professionals​ are working
This side you sense a struggle; where to score, where to rob
On the other side they're more confident, joking and flirting
Resigned to making the best of their job

Although none are present, drugs can be felt in air
Like after an all-night binge you can smell drink in a room
Our clothes old and scruffy, in the eyes a vacant stare
As we wait for prescriptions​ in the self-inflicted gloom

Every few minutes a name is called, someone rises
They return with a slip of blue paper that's worth a fortune
It's another week of no pain, no surprises
This place we may hate it, but we'll be back soon