(Doctor Davis, telephone pleaseDoctor Davis, telephone please)
I'd catapult downtown to see the galleries
And my favorite fiancee in a lavender gown
But I'm hooked up to a machine
It performs my daily functions through a tube in my wien
And today that thing malfunctioned
Like a forest fire it burnt a hole in me and I perspired
So there ain't gonna be a wedding
No love affair, no art to which none compares