It hurt so much that I swooned,
Can't take the ice off this wound.
It throbs like hell to the touch
I hope I won't need a crutch.
At long last drugs have arrived.
How many CCs? Just five!!
Just shoot me up where I've mooned.
I'll take the ice off the wound.

Percodan--that's wimpy fare,
It's just like aspirin compared
To morphine, 'cause it's so weak,
And it takes too long to peak.
For the unreal pain I feel
I need a needle of steel
That into my glute will shoot,
And then the ice will be moot.

I love those poppies,
Their colors are so bright.
I need those poppies
To make me feel alright.
I love those poppies--
Gum from them refined this way.
Those pretty poppies!
When I come down, I say
To my pretty nurse,
"I need some more today."
She says, "I'll drug you, patient,
Yes I'll drug you."

But her aim isn't quite true.
She shoots my thigh; it turns blue.
A little vessel did bust.
The hematoma will crust.
Then I have slept long past five.
I wake, groggy, to this jive:
"You've had more than's good for you.
More morphine now is taboo!"

Just some skin-popping
Will make me feel alright.
My pants I'm dropping
So you can find the site.
They tell me, "Sorry,
We must take it away."
My head is throbbing!
"Don't bring me down, I pray!"
Their heads are nodding
In a cold-turkey way.
"We cannot drug you, patient,
Cannot drug you."

My whole body has turned blue
From the top of head to shoe.
Like Everest to the touch,
I am colder than the Dutch.
Then my long lost nurse arrives--
Takes my pulse; sees I'm alive.
"Too much of good thing you'd rue.
Let's get this ice off of you."