Doctor, doctor, I’m losing it for sure –
I need a hit of medicine, I’m begging for a cure;
I’ll suffer any needle and I’ll swallow any pill,
Just make it quick and do your shtick, I’m sick of feeling ill.
Squirt me full of salty water: mercy, how I parch !
Grind some powder in your mortar, even if it’s starch,
Pop me full of sugar tablets,
Give me lucky feet of rabbits,
Give me anything, I’ll grab it. Health is on the march !
Doctor, doctor, my body’s playing tricks –
I need a shot of remedy, I’m aching for a fix.
I’ll dose on any tincture and I’ll slather any balm;
Just take my pulse while I convulse, and never lose your calm.
Scrip me up a snake-oil tonic, trick me back to health:
Humour me my case is chronic, medicate with stealth.
Wear your lab-coat, reassure me,
Use your stethoscope to lure me,
Use your firm deep voice to cure me. Help me help myself.