Free Lyrics 2026

Alanis Morissette ~ Not The Doctor


I don't want to be the filler if the void is solely yours I don't want to be your glass of single malt whiskey Hidden in the bottom drawer I don't want to be a bandage if the wound is not mine Lend me some fresh air I don't want to be adored for what I merely represent to you I don't want to be your babysitter You're a very big boy now I don't want to be your mother I didn't carry you in my womb for nine months Show me the back door Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6 Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor I don't want to be the sweeper of the egg shells that you walk upon And I don't want to be your other half, I believe that 1 and 1 make 2 I don't want to be your food or the light from the fridge on your face At midnight, hey What are you hungry for I don't want to be the glue that holds your pieces together I don't want to be your idol See this pedestal is high and I'm afraid of heights I don't want to be lived through A vicarious occasion Please open the window Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6 Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor I don't want to live on someday when my motto is last week I don't want to be responsible for your fractured heart And it's wounded beat I don't want to be a substitute for the smoke you've been inhaling What do you thank me What do you thank me for Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6 Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor more free lyrics

I don't want to be the filler if the void is solely yours
I don't want to be your glass of single malt whiskey
Hidden in the bottom drawer
I don't want to be a bandage if the wound is not mine
Lend me some fresh air
I don't want to be adored for what I merely represent to you
I don't want to be your babysitter
You're a very big boy now
I don't want to be your mother
I didn't carry you in my womb for nine months
Show me the back door

Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6
Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh
Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom
You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor

I don't want to be the sweeper of the egg shells that you walk upon
And I don't want to be your other half, I believe that 1 and 1 make 2
I don't want to be your food or the light from the fridge on your face
At midnight, hey
What are you hungry for
I don't want to be the glue that holds your pieces together
I don't want to be your idol
See this pedestal is high and I'm afraid of heights
I don't want to be lived through
A vicarious occasion
Please open the window

Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6
Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh
Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom
You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor

I don't want to live on someday when my motto is last week
I don't want to be responsible for your fractured heart
And it's wounded beat
I don't want to be a substitute for the smoke you've been inhaling
What do you thank me
What do you thank me for

Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6
Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh
Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom
You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor

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Globalized Sounds

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When the lights dim and the first note is played, strangers become synchronized. The tremor when thousands sing together, and the melody that still echoes after the crowd disperses - this is an experience that no screen can convey. We look forward to the return of large-scale concerts to the essence of music, and we also look forward to small livehouses continuing to nourish the most vibrant soil of music.

Crossing Borders

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