Doctor, Doctor doing your best,
Am I going to die, or just need rest.
The pills you gave me are having fun'
Chasing each other round my tum'.
From what I ail can I pass it on,
Or with T.L.C. will it soon be gone.
I promise to do what ever you say'
But it seems as though it just won't go away.
And though I sit here full of sorrow.
Because of you, I know there will be another
Copyright © norman russell | Year Posted 2013