I’d Rather Be (or, Lightyears Away)

(as a follow up to On Chicken Wings, and I suspect you can guess the tune…)

Here in this place, bright light is streaming,
Now is the dentist drilling away.
See in this place, my fear and my screaming,
Accepting the punishment for tooth decay.

I’d rather be washing old dirty dishes,
I’d rather be walking miles in the rain,
Than here on my back, with anaethesia,
Praying the drill doesn’t enter my brain!

He says, “Open wide, I can’t see way back there,
How can I fix it, only by feel?”
So I take a deep breath, say a quick prayer,
And hope if he slips that the damage will heal.

I’d rather be doing calculus problems,
I’d rather be cleaning hair from the drain,
Than here on my back, with anaesthesia,
Praying the drill doesn’t enter my brain!

Things are progressing, I’d almost say nicely,
Three cavities down, and one more to do,
But one little nerve is blocked only mildly,
He enters the pulp, I think I might sue…

I’d rather be trapped on a small island,
I’d rather be mumbling, declared insane,
Than here on my back, with anaesthesia,
Praying the drill doesn’t enter my brain!

The torture is through, my terror is ending,
I leap from the chair, not feeling so ill,
But here in this place, one rule is unbending,
Before leaving the office, you must pay your bill!

I’d rather be saving for a vacation,
But yet, on the whole, I cannot complain.
Despite all my fears, in jubilation,
That horrible drill didn’t enter my brain!