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I was going to have cosmetic surgery until I noticed that the doctor's office was full of portraits by Picasso.

quote by Rita Rudner
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Hand That Feeds

Doctor, doctor, doctor
Please, doctor, doctor, please
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Feel like an old diseace
Get your sweet ass off the floor
Doctor, doctor, doctor
I cant refuse any loose harted lady anymore
I scream your name into the crowd
You feel the flame, but yo aint proud
Mabye your attitude aint right
So all thats left for me to do is bite
The hand that feeds me
Feeds me
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Doctor, doctor, please
All things you put me through
What the hell you want me to
Do all the things that uncle john needs
I aint the dog that bites the hand that feeds me
In the middle of, with a spittle of
Et tu like birds of a feather
When another day, love another way
Push, shove, make love, play
Never never, never ever
Never ever, never ever
Na, na...
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Please do a-what you can
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Would you please give my life a hand
All the things you put me trough
What the hell you want me to
Do all the things that uncle john needs
I aint the dog that bites the hand that feeds me, yeah
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Doctor, doctor, please
(repeat)

song performed by Aerosmith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Soul Doctor

Well I woke up this morning
Took your advice
I dialed the number
And I let it ring twice
Then I hung up
Now I tried to do
Everything I could
To save our love
And make it feel good again
I cant fight it, theres nobody home
Hard hearted and all alone
I give you love, you aint giving it back
I cant take it
I need to see the soul doctor
Before the fever begins
You know Im searching for the soul doctor
When love is wearing thin
Doctor soul is in
Ive been kicked in the corner
Im down in the dirt
I cant feel a thing
But I know it ought to hurt
Now your shaking my spirit
Im breaking my back
Im too blind to hear it
So I over react to satisfaction
If I could get me some
I aint talking, theres nothing to say
Misunderstandin, your walking away
Maybe baby, its gonna take time, time, time
I need to see the soul doctor
Before the fever begins
You know Im searching for the soul doctor
When love is wearing thin
Doctor soul is in
I need to see the soul doctor
You know things are looking grim
I keep searching for the soul doctor
Doctor soul is in
The doctors soul intention
Let it be understood
Cant pull the strings of my heart
I aint made out of wood
Now I take what I get
To get what it takes
Need a little bit a love
Got a whole lotta heartaches
I cant fight it, theres nobody home
Hard hearted and all alone
Maybe baby, its gonna take time, time, time

[...] Read more

song performed by Foreigner
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Open Soul Surgery

Written by: jim vallance
Its been a long time since we been travellin down
On the wrong side of your love
But I dont care if you think Im wasting my time
Youre the only one Im thinkin of
Well I spend my whole life travellin around
From town to town and I need
Open soul surgery
Open soul surgery
Yeh I need surgery
Open soul surgery
Ooh, yeh
When you were 18 I took you from your mama & sister
As you didnt need that kind of protection
Now I hate to see you comin on like some kind of bitch
cos your life aint what youre expectin
Well I spend all my time just chasing you down
And now that I found you I need
Open soul surgery
Open soul surgery
Yeh I need surgery
Open soul surgery
Somebody help me now
And now the pressures on
I dont know right from wrong
I live in desperation
I can feel the heat
Now that Im on the street
For what youve done to me
And Im gonna need
Open soul surgery
Open soul surgery
Yeh I need surgery
Open soul surgery

song performed by April Wine
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Pablo Picasso

Well some people try to pick up girls
And get called assholes
This never happened to Pablo Picasso
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare and
So Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole
Well the girls would turn the color
Of the avocado when he would drive
Down their street in his El Dorado
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare
Pablo Picasso never got called an asshole
Not like you
Alright
Well he was only 5'3"
But girls could not resist his stare
Pablo Picasso never got called an asshole
Not in New York
Oh well be not schmuck, be not obnoxious,
Be not bellbottom bummer or asshole
Remember the story of Pablo Picasso
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare
Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole
Alright this is it
Some people try to pick up girls
And they get called an asshole
This never happened to Pablo Picasso
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare and so
Pablo Picasso was never called...

song performed by David Bowie
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Whose Country Is This?

Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Dr. Beat

Doctor, Ive got this feelin deep inside of me, deep inside of me
I just cant control my feet when I hear the beat, when I hear the beat
Hey doctor, could you give me somethin to ease the pain
cause if you dont help me soon gonna lose my brain
Gonna go insane
I just dont know, dont know
How Im gonna deal with you
Doc, doc, doc, doc, doctor beat
I just dont know, dont know
Wont you help me doctor beat
Doc, doc, doc, doc, doctor beat
Wont you help me doctor beat
(repeat previous line 3 times)
Say, say, say, doctor
I got this fever that I cant control
That I cant control
Music makes me move my body
Makes me move my soul
Makes me move my soul
Doc, you better give me somethin
cause Im burnin up
Yes, Im burnin up
Doc, youve got to find a cure
Or were gonna die
Yes, were gonna die
I just dont know, dont know
How Im gonna deal with you
Doc, doc, doc, doc, doctor beat
I just dont know, dont know wont you help me doctor beat
Doc, doc, doc, doc, doctor beat
Wont you help me doctor beat
(repeat line 3 times)
Doctor doctor, wont you please help me
You gotta help me, you gotta help me
If you got trouble, cant stop your feet
Pay a little visit to doctor beat
Doc, doc, doc, doc, doctor beat
Wont you help me doctor beat
(repeat line 3 times)

song performed by Gloria Estefan
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The Idiot Boy

'Tis eight o'clock,--a clear March night,
The moon is up,--the sky is blue,
The owlet, in the moonlight air,
Shouts from nobody knows where;
He lengthens out his lonely shout,
Halloo! halloo! a long halloo!

--Why bustle thus about your door,
What means this bustle, Betty Foy?
Why are you in this mighty fret?
And why on horseback have you set
Him whom you love, your Idiot Boy?

Scarcely a soul is out of bed;
Good Betty, put him down again;
His lips with joy they burr at you;
But, Betty! what has he to do
With stirrup, saddle, or with rein?

But Betty's bent on her intent;
For her good neighbour, Susan Gale,
Old Susan, she who dwells alone,
Is sick, and makes a piteous moan
As if her very life would fail.

There's not a house within a mile,
No hand to help them in distress;
Old Susan lies a-bed in pain,
And sorely puzzled are the twain,
For what she ails they cannot guess.

And Betty's husband's at the wood,
Where by the week he doth abide,
A woodman in the distant vale;
There's none to help poor Susan Gale;
What must be done? what will betide?

And Betty from the lane has fetched
Her Pony, that is mild and good;
Whether he be in joy or pain,
Feeding at will along the lane,
Or bringing faggots from the wood.

And he is all in travelling trim,--
And, by the moonlight, Betty Foy
Has on the well-girt saddle set
(The like was never heard of yet)
Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy.

And he must post without delay

[...] Read more

poem by William Wordsworth
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Tale III

THE GENTLEMAN FARMER.

Gwyn was a farmer, whom the farmers all,
Who dwelt around, 'the Gentleman' would call;
Whether in pure humility or pride,
They only knew, and they would not decide.
Far different he from that dull plodding tribe
Whom it was his amusement to describe;
Creatures no more enliven'd than a clod,
But treading still as their dull fathers trod;
Who lived in times when not a man had seen
Corn sown by drill, or thresh'd by a machine!
He was of those whose skill assigns the prize
For creatures fed in pens, and stalls, and sties;
And who, in places where improvers meet,
To fill the land with fatness, had a seat;
Who in large mansions live like petty kings,
And speak of farms but as amusing things;
Who plans encourage, and who journals keep,
And talk with lords about a breed of sheep.
Two are the species in this genus known;
One, who is rich in his profession grown,
Who yearly finds his ample stores increase,
From fortune's favours and a favouring lease;
Who rides his hunter, who his house adorns;
Who drinks his wine, and his disbursements scorns;
Who freely lives, and loves to show he can, -
This is the Farmer made the Gentleman.
The second species from the world is sent,
Tired with its strife, or with his wealth content;
In books and men beyond the former read
To farming solely by a passion led,
Or by a fashion; curious in his land;
Now planning much, now changing what he plann'd;
Pleased by each trial, not by failures vex'd,
And ever certain to succeed the next;
Quick to resolve, and easy to persuade, -
This is the Gentleman, a farmer made.
Gwyn was of these; he from the world withdrew
Early in life, his reasons known to few;
Some disappointments said, some pure good sense,
The love of land, the press of indolence;
His fortune known, and coming to retire,
If not a Farmer, men had call'd him 'Squire.
Forty and five his years, no child or wife
Cross'd the still tenour of his chosen life;
Much land he purchased, planted far around,
And let some portions of superfluous ground
To farmers near him, not displeased to say
'My tenants,' nor 'our worthy landlord,' they.

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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I Am Your Doctor (feat. Wayne Wonder & Elephant Man)

Intro & Chorus: Wyclef Jean
I am your doctor (Yeah yeah yeah) heres the prescription (Girl!!!)
Two teaspoons of my friendship, a full cup of my love
(Yo Wayne Wonder, you ready to talk to the girls, lets go)
Verse 1: Wayne Wonder (Wyclef Jean)
I will be knockin by the time me come a four
Here comes the doctor baby worry no more
I will bring the remedy baby I will bring the cure
Give you what you want and absolutely I am sure
Take my hand Ill be your man
Let me take you to the sunshine island
I will be your therapy, let it be
You know you need my healing (Wait a minute!!!)
Chorus: Wyclef Jean
I am your doctor (Yeah yeah yeah) heres the prescription (Yeah yeah yeah)
Two teaspoons of my friendship, a full cup of my love
(Gimme some love, gimme some love)
And if your back is hurtin, turn around girl
See, Im your chiropractor (Wayne Wonder: La da dow da dow!!!)
Please!!! Lay on this sofa (Wayne Wonder: Oh na na na now!!!)
And let me message your back (Wayne Wonder: Your back)
So I can feel whats wrong (Girl whats wrong, girl whats wrong, girl whats wrong)
(Yo Wayne, talk to the girls man)
Verse 2: Wayne Wonder (Wyclef Jean)
If you got a problem and you wanna get it fixed
Send for the doctor with the medicine for your chest
Fill your prescription with the right mix
My kiss and I will say what kind of miracle is this
Take my hand Ill be your man
Let me take you to the sunshine island
I will be your therapy, let it be
You know you need my healing (Let me talk to them now)
Verse 3: Wyclef Jean
When you make it to the emergency room (Yeah)
Tell the nurse I said that she dont need no, coverage no, no no no
(Wayne Wonder: Oh na na na now)
Cause I been waitin to operate on you all night
So lay back, relax, feel my hands right through your hair
Chorus: Wyclef Jean
I am your doctor (Oh yeah yeah) heres the prescription
Two teaspoons of my friendship, a full cup of my love
(Wait a minute Elephant Man, talk to di gal dem)
Verse 4: Elephant Man (Wyclef Jean)
Dem call mi Dr. Love, ready fi di surgery gimme di gloves
Mouth to mouth respiration a weh she love
You mi thermometer test har and she hundred above
Give har di lovin and she melt like a fudge
Mi have di PHD, mi qualify mi have mi degree
Fi give she di remedy from a di therapy
Nuh waan see nuh night nurse so she come a mi

[...] Read more

song performed by Wyclef Jean
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Doctor Robert

Ring my friend, i said you call doctor robert
Day or night he'll be there any time at all, doctor robert
Doctor robert, you're a new and better man,
He helps you to understand
He does everything he can, doctor robert
If you're down he'll pick you up, doctor robert
Take a drink from his special cup, doctor robert
Doctor robert, he's a man you must believe,
Helping everyone in need
No one can succeed like doctor robert
Well, well, well, you're feeling fine
Well, well, well, he'll make you ... doctor robert
My friend works for the national health, doctor robert
Don't pay money just to see yourself with doctor robert
Doctor robert, you're a new and better man,
He helps you to understand
He does everything he can, doctor robert
Well, well, well, you're feeling fine
Well, well, well, he'll make you ... doctor robert

song performed by Beatles
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Dr. Detroit

Don't you stop
Don't you wonder why
Life itself pops in
And takes you by surprise
Don't you try to run
It gets you from behind
Like a common cold
It takes you for a ride
Now is the time
To call me doctor
This is a serious case
There's not much time
Now call me doctor
They love to watch him operate
It comes and goes
So call me doctor
They need a special technique
It grows and grows
Now call me doctor
Calling doctor, doctor detroit
Call me doctor (repeat)
No need to look
He's not in the book
The doctor's not an m.d.
What he does this time he does for free
Now is the time
To call me doctor
This is a serious case
There's not much time
Now call me doctor
They love to watch him operate
It comes and goes
So call me doctor
They need a special technique
It grows and grows
Now call me doctor
Calling doctor, doctor detroit

song performed by Devo
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The Lamentable Ballad Of The Foundling Of Shoreditch

Come all ye Christian people, and listen to my tail,
It is all about a doctor was travelling by the rail,
By the Heastern Counties' Railway (vich the shares I don't desire),
From Ixworth town in Suffolk, vich his name did not transpire.

A travelling from Bury this Doctor was employed
With a gentleman, a friend of his, vich his name was Captain Loyd,
And on reaching Marks Tey Station, that is next beyond Colchest-
er, a lady entered into them most elegantly dressed.

She entered into the Carriage all with a tottering step,
And a pooty little Bayby upon her bussum slep;
The gentlemen received her with kindness and siwillaty,
Pitying this lady for her illness and debillaty.

She had a fust-class ticket, this lovely lady said,
Because it was so lonesome she took a secknd instead.
Better to travel by secknd class, than sit alone in the fust,
And the pooty little Baby upon her breast she nust.

A seein of her cryin, and shiverin and pail,
To her spoke this surging, the Ero of my tail;
Saysee you look unwell, Ma'am, I'll elp you if I can,
And you may tell your ease to me, for I'm a meddicle man.

'Thank you, Sir,' the lady said, 'I only look so pale,
Because I ain't accustom'd to travelling on the Rale;
I shall be better presnly, when I've ad some rest:'
And that pooty little Baby she squeeged it to her breast.

So in the conwersation the journey they beguiled,
Capting Loyd and the meddicle man, and the lady and the child,
Till the warious stations along the line was passed,
For even the Heastern Counties' trains must come in at last.

When at Shoreditch tumminus at lenth stopped the train,
This kind meddicle gentleman proposed his aid again.
'Thank you, Sir,' the lady said, 'for your kyindness dear;
My carridge and my osses is probibbly come here.

'Will you old this baby, please, vilst I step and see?'
The Doctor was a famly man: 'That I will,' says he.
Then the little child she kist, kist it very gently,
Vich was sucking his little fist, sleeping innocently.

With a sigh from her art, as though she would have bust it,
Then she gave the Doctor the child—wery kind he nust it:
Hup then the lady jumped hoff the bench she sat from,
Tumbled down the carridge steps and ran along the platform.

[...] Read more

poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Handles Bermuda

bean bag spokane
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b ean bags bulk
bean bag toss tailgate games
bella animal print bag
beresford packaging plastic bags
bean bag store toronto
ben sherman messenger bags
bejui bags
beijo bags

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Doctor’s Day,2010

Doctor, doctor, carer of sick!
Doctor, doctor, healer on earth;
Doctor, doctor, noble is thine field;
Doctor, doctor, serve thine brethren well!

Doctor, labor all the more;
Clean and dress the chronic sore;
Let no person taint thine name;
Never forget thine great aim.

Doctor, let not wealth allure;
Doctor, lead a life all pure;
Doctor, try to always cure;
God will bless thee on earth, sure.

Dear Dr.B, K, Padmavathi M.D.,
‘Happy Doctor’s Day,2010! ’
From the Dean and staff of IRT, PMC

Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-1-2010

poem by John Celes
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The Parish Register - Part III: Burials

THERE was, 'tis said, and I believe, a time
When humble Christians died with views sublime;
When all were ready for their faith to bleed,
But few to write or wrangle for their creed;
When lively Faith upheld the sinking heart,
And friends, assured to meet, prepared to part;
When Love felt hope, when Sorrow grew serene,
And all was comfort in the death-bed scene.
Alas! when now the gloomy king they wait,
'Tis weakness yielding to resistless fate;
Like wretched men upon the ocean cast,
They labour hard and struggle to the last;
'Hope against hope,' and wildly gaze around
In search of help that never shall be found:
Nor, till the last strong billow stops the breath,
Will they believe them in the jaws of Death!
When these my Records I reflecting read,
And find what ills these numerous births succeed;
What powerful griefs these nuptial ties attend;
With what regret these painful journeys end;
When from the cradle to the grave I look,
Mine I conceive a melancholy book.
Where now is perfect resignation seen?
Alas! it is not on the village-green: -
I've seldom known, though I have often read,
Of happy peasants on their dying-bed;
Whose looks proclaimed that sunshine of the breast,
That more than hope, that Heaven itself express'd.
What I behold are feverish fits of strife,
'Twixt fears of dying and desire of life:
Those earthly hopes, that to the last endure;
Those fears, that hopes superior fail to cure;
At best a sad submission to the doom,
Which, turning from the danger, lets it come.
Sick lies the man, bewilder'd, lost, afraid,
His spirits vanquish'd, and his strength decay'd;
No hope the friend, the nurse, the doctor lend -
'Call then a priest, and fit him for his end.'
A priest is call'd; 'tis now, alas! too late,
Death enters with him at the cottage-gate;
Or time allow'd--he goes, assured to find
The self-commending, all-confiding mind;
And sighs to hear, what we may justly call
Death's common-place, the train of thought in all.
'True I'm a sinner,' feebly he begins,
'But trust in Mercy to forgive my sins:'
(Such cool confession no past crimes excite!
Such claim on Mercy seems the sinner's right!)
'I know mankind are frail, that God is just,
And pardons those who in his Mercy trust;

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Picasso Is...

Picasso is...

Picasso transcends mortality.
Picasso is fury artistic dynamics in motion.

Picasso always moving in styles
to new levels of artistic perception
through seen seam fractures
of shift broken molten imagery.

Picasso is walking through walls.
Picasso is rebirth in conception.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Picasso Moon

South of market in the land of ruin
You get all manner of action
Tinsel tigers in the metal room
Stalking satisfaction.
They got em packaged up for love and money
Tattooed tots and chrome spike bunnies
Check my conscience at the dmz
And roll on in, gonna roll in it, honey
But I get a feelin like when big things collide
Like the crack before the thunder, like I really ought to hide
And here comes metal angel, she looks ready to ride;
& whats that shes tryin to show me..?
Whats that youre tryin to show me..?
Picasso moon, shattered light
Diamond bullets ripping up the night
Picasso moon, liberate me,
From the middle of eternity,
Something hooks her little finger at me,
An its bigger than a drive-in movie, ooooo-eeee.
Bigger than a drive-in movie, ooooo-eeee.
Hangin ten out on space and time
Redefining distance.
The next skull on your necklace is mine:
Cheap for such assistance
I had a job trading bits for pieces
Wed make wrinkles, advertise them as creases
Please, find my resignation enclosed,
Roll with it, roll with it, we gonna roll in it, honey..,
Dark angel, whats botherin you?
So strange, youll do me all that you do
Dark angel, youre makin me blue..,
I guess it doesnt matter..,
I guess it doesnt matter...
Picasso moon, blinding ball,
Spinning fire, the lightning calls
Picasso moon, fall into the sky
Rarin out, Im gonna testify
And stare a shout into that burning eye,
Bigger than a drive-in movie, oh my.
Bigger than a drive-in movie, oh my.
Strikes morning; the atomic dawn,
Scramble back to cover.
Quick, pop your mirrored sunglasses on,
My little leather-winged lover.
I see your face printed on my money,
Your blazin ways really move me, honey..!
Heart of darkness, yea-e-yea-e-e-hoo..,
Whym I laughing? this aint funny
Dark angel, now just dont start..,
Youll break my spirit, wreck my heart

[...] Read more

song performed by Grateful Dead
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The Last Picasso

Words and music by neil diamond
The last picasso, the last picasso was just acquired by some old museum, and don quixote, well don quixote the old mans rhyme has lost its reason; which only reminds me have I remembered to say that without you this life of plenty, would seem so empty, the last picasso. oh me and you--me oh me oh me oh me and you-- we, we can sigh--me oh me oh me oh me oh we can sigh. the last picasso, the last picasso may gather dust amid the ruins, and don quixote, well don quixote may no longer make his wishful tunes; but I still have you and I will have you when evrything else is gone and done with. well be like one with the last picasso. oh me and you--me oh me oh me oh me oh me and you-- we, we can sigh--me oh me oh me oh me oh we can sigh. oh, me and you--me oh me oh me oh me oh me and you-- we, we can sigh--me oh me oh me oh me oh we can sigh. oh, me and you--we we can sigh me oh me oh me oh we can sign. oh, me and you.

song performed by Neil Diamond
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The Court Of Love

With timerous hert and trembling hand of drede,
Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence,
Unto the flour of port in womanhede
I write, as he that non intelligence
Of metres hath, ne floures of sentence;
Sauf that me list my writing to convey,
In that I can to please her hygh nobley.

The blosmes fresshe of Tullius garden soote
Present thaim not, my mater for to borne:
Poemes of Virgil taken here no rote,
Ne crafte of Galfrid may not here sojorne:
Why nam I cunning? O well may I morne,
For lak of science that I can-not write
Unto the princes of my life a-right

No termes digne unto her excellence,
So is she sprong of noble stirpe and high:
A world of honour and of reverence
There is in her, this wil I testifie.
Calliope, thou sister wise and sly,
And thou, Minerva, guyde me with thy grace,
That langage rude my mater not deface.

Thy suger-dropes swete of Elicon
Distill in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray;
And thee, Melpomene, I calle anon,
Of ignoraunce the mist to chace away;
And give me grace so for to write and sey,
That she, my lady, of her worthinesse,
Accepte in gree this litel short tretesse,

That is entitled thus, 'The Court of Love.'
And ye that ben metriciens me excuse,
I you besech, for Venus sake above;
For what I mene in this ye need not muse:
And if so be my lady it refuse
For lak of ornat speche, I wold be wo,
That I presume to her to writen so.

But myn entent and all my besy cure
Is for to write this tretesse, as I can,
Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,
Feithfull and kind, sith first that she began
Me to accept in service as her man:

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
Added by Poetry Lover
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Lady & The Doctor

The lady keeps the doctor in a place inside her pocket
The circle made her circle like a wheel
The doctor gives a strange love, but the lady she dont knock it
Shes glad to get a piece of anything
Because the lady needs the medicine ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Doctor needs the lady to see
The doctor keeps the lady in a page in a book
On the history of communicable diseases
The ladys been to school, she lets the doctor play it cool.
He writes the script, she follows his lead.
cause the doctor writes love story so fine
The ladys learned to read between the lines
Sometime
The doctor, he takes housecalls where he visits the animals
In their stalls, shoots them full of juice and then goes home.
The lady hits the supermarket where she rides the aisles in a shopping cart
till she feels shes played enough of the part to set by ooh,
The lady feels its enough to just be good.
But the doctor has his need to be understood.
The doctor feels hes so abused and the lady feels shes so unused
And demands the doctor tends her daily parts.
Ooh, but the doctor just cant do it because so long ago the lady
Blew it, theyre too old now to make another start.
The lady feels the doctors made of stone.
The doctor heart, it just aint fond of ? home?

song performed by Bruce Springsteen
Added by Lucian Velea
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