M.C. Frontalot - Diseases of Yore lyrics

[Intro: Jonathan Coulton] Maybe you'll never die Maybe you're going to live forever and ever [Verse 1: M.C. Frontalot] You don't meet a lot of people in emergency rooms Who've got Anthracosis, Consumption Or Womb Fever. June Cleaver never suffered She had the penicillin, no expiration when she mothered Her no-good little d**h-proof brats Living little ones once were preciouser than that Living anybody used to be a miracle, yo You'd get et by the festering hysterical flow Of madnesses and bad diseases of mole Lung, eye, and humor, spirit and soul All these afflictions engender aversions: I catch Green Sickness to match with the virgins; Scrofula coughs that I cast askance; Ever since Black Scurvy, I can't wear pants And I can't but dance with glee that it's not then now “I bet you got the Tarantism.” – and how! [Hook: Jonathan Coulton] Maybe you'll never die Maybe you're going to live forever And never have anything wrong with you And until you do You won't worry about it Cause you're probably fine; Maybe you should pretend to forget to remember The bullet that's meant for you 'Til it's overdue And it runs you through [Verse 2: M.C. Frontalot] I got Galloping Dropsy and Cheese Washer's Lung Leaves me with Asthenia, the Croup, and a dung heap Of unbearably fetid excreta, from which I get re-infected Nice to meetcha—how about a hug? I swear my Ichor is down And I got over the Pestilence. It was intense. I astound The historians. I'm Picardy Sweaty Just ran out of leeches (that I need) (such as for bloodletting) It's upsetting! There, I'm upset! Dose of French Distemper throbbing up in my head! I don't go into Bilious Flux just yet, but about to Give out a shout to the Cholera. Doubt you Could follow a charting of the manifold ways I'm ill: Iliac Pa**ion, Spelter's Chill Weaver's Bottom, and a Melancholy Ache If my fever doesn't break, raise a gla** at the wake [Hook] [Verse 3: M.C. Frontalot] Yea verily, shouldn't ought to put in the belly Ague Cake with the Colloid Jelly Now you come telling me check in the mind That all of these infirmities combined define a Time-traveling hypochondria epidemic (one I suffer under) But on the other side of the globe from affluence The d**h is still thriving. Thus, contract thence [Hook x2]