Losing My Re-Wisdom (think R.E.M)

Suffice to say, I'm not feeling too clever at the moment (geddit?). As I have some time on my hands before rejoining the rat race, I'm getting the unmitigated fun that is dental work out of the way. And massive thanks must be given to Liza's cousin Gary for being the best dentist I've ever met. If you live or move here and need a dentist, just say the word and I'll pass on his details.

I won't go on about the procedure - you've probably been there yourself - but hope you find the following as amusing as I did. I'm walking home with the ipod set to random and U2's 'Where The Streets Have No Name' comes on. Now, I'm not certain if it's because of all the injections or, quite likely, because my mind thinks like this regardless but I couldn't help but be convinced that the song should be read as a dissection of the pulling of wisdom teeth. Still not convinced? Check this out...

I want to run (yep, that's pretty much the feeling)
I want to hide (ditto)
I want to tear down the walls (what the dentist is doing to one's mouth)
That hold me inside (inside said walls are one's teeth)
I want to reach out (the dentist - he's going in!)
And touch the flame (either the extracting of teeth or the blood that is left behind)
Where the streets have no name (this was trickier so concluded that it rhymed with 'where my mouth has much pain')

In the interests of fairness, if I meet Bono, I shall put my theory to him...and expect the men in white coats (see? Another dental link) to take me away before he's barely had the chance to see my pearly whites.