(Doctor Davis, telephone please.. Doctor Davis, telephone please).
I'd catapult downtown to see the galleries.
And my favorite fiancee in a lavender gown.
But I'm hooked up to a machine.
It performs my daily functions through a tube in my wien.
And today that thing malfunctioned.
Like a forest fire it burnt a hole in me and I perspired.
So there ain't gonna be a wedding.
No love affair, no art to which none compares