These legs once rode horses with no stirrups nor saddle.
These legs once cut through the mud for a try-saving tackle.
Now they ache as every movement is a strain,
And off to hospitals, I take them to explain their pain.
They say they listen but sorry, there is no cure.
All we have is in this shiny brochure.
Pills, oh yes, we can prescribe you some.
They can ease the pain but they can make you dumb.
For the side effects, we’ll give you some more.
We will give you a form so you can keep a score.
Our one to ten is so much fun.
If you mark too many zeros we’ll give you a gun.
Shall we say a month before our next get together,
That’s provided of course you accept you won’t get better.
But your time is up. Now you must go.
The nurse will find a chair. She’ll push you real slow!
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