Our world it doesn't smell so very good
Strictly between you and me
Our life is mean, dirty and banal
and sick and raw
and brutal as can be
Of course what ails our society
Is moral VD and sclerosis,
And terminal senile decay
Here is my doctor's prognosis:
That blood transfusions
And hormone solutions
And all the profusion
of antibiotics
and vitamin shots
Are medicine thrown away