Millions of pills

My doctor was a lady of very great skill

She cut my whole head off with a new green  type of pill

I still miss those kind voices I once nearly heard

Till she convinced me they were only birds.

My doctor had got malice in one eye.

As she demanded some patient must die.

I said to her that I thought 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 very, very dense. My doctor was so extremely good at curing ills

When she died, they made her into millions of pills.