Dear Dr. Swift...
It's me – I'm here again,
Go on, just admit it,
I must drive you insane?
You once said to me,
If I drive you up the wall,
You for sure would tell me,
And time for me you'd call.
Now if you throw me off your list,
Your surgery would be too quiet,
No more gabby Catherine...
lots of peace, and no more riot.
Now you know I'm only foolin',
Well, at least I think I am?
After all, when said and done,
I am my only fan!
I stand by what I've said,
You really are the best,
(And now I'm really creeping),
Plus I've put you to the test.
I've got you up the proverbial wall,
With me head and fits and blood,
So Swifty, just admit it,
I'm just no ruddy good!
Well now I'm being positive,
And look to my future health,
Even if it's in me dreams!
I ain't even got no wealth!
But I praise you all the time,
You've the patience of a saint,
And with me as your patient…
Easy, that sure ain't!
When me name shows up,
Do you go quite sick?
Or do I not yet drive you mad,
Is it cos your skins quite thick?
Is me liver bugging you?
Is me blood and heart a pain?
Do me enzymes driving you nuts?
Do me nerves driving you insane?
Should I be on the scrap heap?
Or can you save my soul?
What about me arm, Doc?
Or me head with this blasted hole?
Well, I think that I ‘am' knackered,
And I think you will agree?
I'm just a load of rubbish…
But funny, I do be!
