Doc-C teaches maths at school, his life is quite sublime
I am living simple, thinking high, he tells us all the time
He peers at us over glasses that totter on his nose
And if you compliment him on his algebra he quite visibly glows
He is well-known for demonstrating complex trigonometric curves
Inverted parabola equals hyperbola he somnolently observes
Like it or not he speaks a lot and always he’s absurd
And he often repeats his lines to make sure that you’ve heard
He has a checkered coat of his that he wears all through the year
And he often spells the words he speaks to make their meanings clear
Brushes his teeth and goes to work, he works from nine-to-four
Looks up, sighs philosophically, and then he works some more
He comes back late in the evening sometimes at nine or ten
And if he’s caught in a traffic jam he is even later then!
Ask him what he studies mainly, he’ll tell you, Several things,
Mel-Cepstral coefficients for one, and obfuscated handwritings
He holds up ancient letters, says Magnificent as you see
And goes on to wax eloquent on the beauty of the letter ‘E’
Handwriting is my passion and yes, I do confess
More beautiful than a thousand words is a single handwritten address
So obsessed is he with research, that his neighbours all bewail
He ambushes unsuspecting postmen and runs away with their mail!
Waits in dark and lonely corners till no one he can see
Then ransacks peoples mailboxes and jumps around with glee!
Ask him if he’s married and he’ll shout at you No Sir!
Beat me, maim me, kill me I’m a confirmed bachelor
But later when he’s all alone he whispers Not fair!
Here I am quite eligible, and God, does no one care?
I know that I’m not wealthy I don’t profess to be
I’m may be a bit odd-looking but I am a PhD!
I am a workaholic and tell me, who wants more
I catch the bus at half past six and work from nine to four
I’m truthful and I’m pious that surely they can see
Then why am I unmarried at the age of 43?
He bites his lip, shakes his head, and wipes a tear and sighs
As he lays in bed in pyjamas that are badly undersize
Some neighbours say Its nothing, just softness in the head
But others say No, it’s deeper, He’s too far gone, we dread!
We know he works from nine to four, and all that’s very fine
But then, they ask, what does he do in the hours from four to nine?
We often see him late at night around the promenade
Who knows what he does out there, the suspicious neighbours said
Mostly he’s quite normal, but sometimes he’s in a trance
And one night someone saw him howl at the moon and dance!
Now and then he slips and falls, and breaks a leg or two
He says I know it isn’t nice but its the best that I can do!
He used to be quite healthy, except a slight pain in his chest
But soon he felt it grow and grow till he was quite distressed
He went down to the clinic, said Doctor help me please
I’ve always been so healthy but for this strange disease
The doctor smiled and said: Relax, now wont you please lie down
He saw his front, he saw his back, he saw him all around
He looked him over up and down and then he looked some more
And said with a consequential air Why didn’t you come before?
I thought you were a pious man, but now you make me think
You don’t look like a drinking man but tell me, do you drink?
The patient leaps up rampantly No, never, not at all
No one ever saw on me the sign of alcohol
Its strange the doubtful doctor said Then, I cant explain your fever
But I nearly could have sworn it was cirrhosis of the liver
Doc-C squeals and promptly faints, out of fear and shock
For nothing could be worse than to hear such dreadful talk
The doctor says Perhaps it is much worse than what I fear
He’ll live about a month or two not more than half a year
The patient comes around and says, O Doctor I’ll confess
All my life I’ve lied so much and now I must redress
Gin was mother’s milk to me I lived on rum and coke
I drank at dawn, I drank at dusk, I drank till I was broke
I sneaked away had I a chance I bought the cheapest wine
And everyday I stayed away and drank from four to nine
Then secretly I came back home the bottle beneath my vest
Do you feel better, the Doctor asked, now that you’ve confessed
The patient smiled and wiped a tear, said with a little laugh
I feel a little better but I’ve only told you half
Why do you think I woke up every day at half past four
Not for morning exercise, its cause I had to drink some more!
There, there said the Doctor You must try to stay calm
Weeping hysteria at such a time, will only do more harm
You’ve been good to me kind Doctor, really you’ve been the best
Now it would please my dying soul if you kept this last request
I’ve told you all dear doctor I’ve redeemed all my crimes
All I need to drown my sorrows now is a glass of gin and lime!