Please doctor can you tell me,
What’s wrong with my John Tom,
It seems all sort of peculiar,
And doesn’t seem so long.
The doctor he was quite surprised,
At what he saw before his eyes,
A shape he’d never seen before,
Looked like it had been trapped in a door.
How did you get like this young man,
You could have been hit with a frying pan,
Nothing as bad as that I’m afraid,
I got hit by the sauce when the table was laid.
But what does your wife say about this mess,
Well she thinks I can’t make it and she’s under stress,
I’ll give you some pills to put it to rights,
Then can have back your frivolous nights.
Off he did go and took all his pills,
He got so randy she thought he was ill,
He went back to the doctor just to complain,
And asked him what was wrong with his brain.
The wife’s going potty she thinks I am mad,
What’s in those pills that made me so bad,
They’re sex pills I’m glad that they work,
Now I can take them when I get the urge.