My Friend, The Doctor

(album: Bobby Darin Sings Doctor Doolittle - 1967)

Now any man who understands the Irish
Well, they can't be reckoned altogether bad
The same way that a lunatic
Who's Patron Saint is Patrick
Can't be reckoned altogether mad

The Doctor's very smart
He's an Irish man at heart
His favourite colour sure
It must be green
And also he's a man
Who, blimey, when he can
Let me explain the sort of thing
Let me explain the sort of thing I mean

My friend the Doctor says
The moon is made of apple pie
And once a month it's eaten by the sun
And that is why
Up in the sky
You'll find as every month goes by
Somebody in the sky is making another one

My friend the Doctor says
The sun is made of cheddar cheese
The Doctor even knows the reason why
The facts are these
Try if you please
Pretend that you're a lonely cheese
Wouldn't you want to try
Finding an apple pie?

Maybe what the Doctor tells me
Isn't altogether true
But I love every tale he tells me
And I don't know any better ones
Do you?

My friend the Doctor says
The world is full of fantasy
And who are you or I to disagree?
Let's hope and pray
That is the way
The life we love will always stay
For my friend the Doctor and me

My friend the Doctor says
The stars are made of lemon drops
The bigger ones are lollipops and ice
The clouds are shops up on the tops
That sell you sweets and soda pops
What do they call the place
Isn't it paradise?

My friend the Doctor says
That every time it starts to rain
And people run indoors again in swarms
If you remain
Out in the rain
You'll think you're drinking pink champagne
And you'll spend your life
Praying for thunderstorms

Maybe what the Doctor tells me
Isn't altogether true
But I love every tale he tells me
And I don't know any better ones
Do you?

My friend the Doctor says
The world is full of fantasy
And who are you or I to disagree?
Let's hope and pray
That that's the way
The life we love will always stay
For my friend the M.D. and me