About This Track
An avant-garde jazz spoken-word track capturing the visceral mounting anxiety of waiting for life-altering medical news in a sterile clinical room.
AI Composition
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The plastic chair sticks to my skin. / Bleach and copper fill the hall. / A sudden click above my head. / The glass tube flashes yellow twice. / (ah-ah-ah-ah) / Dust motes swim in the glare. / My fingers trace the denim seam. / A metal cart rolls past the door. / Rubber squeaks on waxed grey floors. / The doctor's coat hangs on a hook. / White cotton pulling at the neck. / A monitor blinks rapid green. / Blood rushes drumming in my ears. / (drumming) / (drumming) / The handle turns! / The hinge complains! / Footfalls approach the painted wood! / The folder opens! / Words spill out!
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