Diagnosis

On a council estate in an invisible kitchen
Hides a mother of three and she's running out of patience
She got her name on a list, getting tired of waiting
She's not even sure if anybody is listening

Read 'em and weep, you're asleep at the wheel
The system is fucked and your treatment's corrupting the deal
You are not your diagnosís
You're not that prescription in your hand
You are not your diagnosís
Simplified for them to understand

You're not an animal
We're not animals
I'm not an animal
I am a human being

You're not an out of touch text in an out of date textbook
One cure fits all, if it's to justify the letters on the name on the plaque upon the wall
But if they looked a bit harder
And if they dug a bit deeper
Or If they came a bit cheaper
They'd see a congenital glitch
Not a burden on the rich

Read 'em and weep