I have him up the pole,
This poor doc of mine,
He's up the wall with my complaints,
Wracking his brains all the time!
He really is a star,
He's genuine through and through,
Always has an ear for me,
And both of his shoulders too.
Never gets fed up with me,
Puts up with all my complaints,
That's because he is a star,
Actually, he's a saint!
Now he's been away for a while,
And he's been missed a lot,
All his patients are lining up,
And I'm afraid we should be shot!
But, it's his own fault,
Coz he's such a lovely man,
All the people want to see him,
Whenever and however they can.
So now he's back in his office,
Hiding behind the door,
Coz there's hundreds of patients waiting, With problems by the score!
But no fear, no worries,
Coz Swifty's back again,
Ready with his remedies,
To alleviate patient's pain!
Now yes, he is a dafty...
And as doctors go, he's great,
Tis proud I am to know him,
And even better to be his mate!
So Swifty, what you gona do?
With all me problems galore,
Do you put me down, or what?
Coz only you know the score!
This bod of mine iswrecked,
And I know you do agree…
That I keep the N.H.S. busy,
Coz I'm as knackered as can be!
Now, if we listed my complaints,
We both know for sure,
That no one would believe us,
Coz my bod can't take no more.
If anything else went wrong,
Just what would we do?
I'm afraid I'd have to go the vet,
And leave me giblets to the zoo!
So then, what's the deal?
Do I fight or do I give in?
Narrr, coz we both know,
That this poet will always win!
Well it's like I always say,
Fight on or go under and die,
So I fight on, every day,
I'm a stubborn bugger that's why!
So then, do you have a cure?
Or maybe a miracle or two,
I'm not asking for the impossible,
But a body transplant will do!
Tis nice to see you back though,
And I just want to say,
When people see you sitting there,
You're gona make their day!