When I am ill, I go to bed And on the pillow lay my head. The doctor comes and says, ¡§Dear me, He feels my pulse and sees my tongue, He tests my heart and then each lung; He asks how old I am, and then He takes his paper and his pen And makes a note of things that taste So horrid, that I'm sure it's waste To take them. But he says ¡§Each noon Take this, and you'll be better soon.¡¨ |