An Englishman's Home Is His Car
When your nostrils are thick and impure,
And your chest is a source of congestion,
One thing you clearly don't want is a cure:
All medicine's out of the question.
Far better that germs start to breed,
Far better to clog up the body:
A quick rub of Vick cannot be what you need.
Who cares for a syrup or toddy?
The people of England, phlegmatic,
Do not think that their tubes need unblocking –
Let them choke! On this point, they're emphatic.
What? Call in a doctor? How shocking.
The same goes for pricing and charging,
Prescriptions no sane sorts abide –
Our country's in need of some urgent enlarging,
With motorways eighteen miles wide.
Yes, go for a spin with your spin-docs!
Who cares if our lungs are in pain?
We'll send you more e-mail, and fill up your in-box
Again and again and again.