THE GOWN WITH THE SPLIT DOWN THE BACK
I was sittin’ there mindin’ my business,
Sort of lettin’ my mind go slack,
When in walked a nurse with a bright sunny smile,
And a gown with a split down the back.
“Take shower,” she said, “and get ready,
And then you jump into the sack.”
And what she was really talking about,
Was that gown with the split down the back.
“They are going to make some tests,” she told me,
And now I’ll be stretched on a rack,
With nothing twixt me and the cruel cold world,
But that gown with the split down the back.
It barely reaches my knees in the front,
At the sides there is also a lack—
But the greatest shortcoming of all,
Is that bloomin’ ole split in the back.
Whoever designed this garment,
For humor, must have had a great knack,
But I fail to see anything funny,
About a gown with a split down the back.
It won’t cover my knees,
It flaps in the breeze,
And I sure don’t dare sneeze—
I’d much rather they give me a sack,
Than a gown with a split down the back.
I hear them comin’ to get me,
The wheels goin’ clicktey clack,
I’ll ride through the halls on a gurney,
In a gown with a split down the back.
When I get to Heaven, it will make me no odds,
If my robe is white, red, or black,
But one thing I’ll ask—
Is, “Please, Please give me one,
With No split down the back?”