Pillvillian I'm Sick Blues

(with apologies to the inestimable Bob Dylan)

Mama’s in her bedroom

Mixin’ up the medicine

I’m on the telephone

Talkin’ ‘bout Primadone

The man in the white coat

Good doc, paid off

Says he’s got a bad cough

Wants to get laid off

Look out, Mom

You’re on Klor-con

God knows how,

But you’re havin’ some fun

You better run to the boat dock

Lookin’ for a new friend

The phlebotomist 

In a cubicle

Wants eleven vials

You only got ten

Fleet foot optometrist

Old Pulmonologist

Hearing heart beats, but

They put you in bed, called

The Cardiologist anyway

Medicare says that many say

They must have hearing aids

Orders from outer space

Look out, Mom

Don’t matter you’re too thin

Walk with a cane

Don’t try your brain

Stay away from assholes

That push Pantoprozole

Keep a clean house

You don’t need a pacemaker

To know which way’s the undertaker

Get old, get bold,

Hang around, get told

If anything’s gone to gold

INR CPR

DNR, no car

Bacteria, Hysteria

Look out, Mom

You’re gonna get hit

Oh, Medtronic

Gin and tonic

Hang around the pill eaters

Man with the oxygen

Wants a new pathogen

Don’t follow leaders

Eat Egg Beaters

Ah get born, keep warm

Nice pants, romance, learn to dance

Potassium, Calcium

Try to be a good mum

Please you, please me, buy gin

Don’t steal, don’t sin

Twenty years of Plavix

And they give you Coumadin

Look out, Mom

They keep it all hid

Better slug down some alcohol

Lower your cholesterol

Don’t wear anger

Try to avoid the cancer

Don’t want a genie

Just a martini

Microwave don’t work

‘Cause the Namenda’s in the blender.