My new doctor can meditate for hours
So she sends the patients out to pick her flowers
When they come back their ailments have been cured
I guess it’s something in that horse manure.
Now she’s learning how to hypnotise
By hooking onto other people’s eyes
We all pretend that we’re not really here.
But damn it all, she is so very dear.
We formed a patient group to give advice
To doctors, which is never ever wise.
They must at least appear omnipotent
And also be both nasty and pleasant
This paradox makes me hallucinate
The hand I see before me holds a plate
My doctor was a lady of great skill
She cut my head off with a type of pill
I still miss those voices I once heard
Till she convinced me they were only birds.
My doctor had got malice in her eye.
As she demanded one patient must die.
I said to her that Jesus was enough
And it was a mortal sin to call God’s bluff.
I told her how a voice had said clearly
That love but not great wealth would come to me
She said “you’re bordering on offence .”
So I told her that real numbers are quite dense
My doctor was so good at curing ills
When she died, they made her into pills.
This photo is from Twitter