[Intro] (Cheerio!) [Acoustic banjo plucking starts, suddenly side-chained by a heavy future bass swell] [Glitchy vocal chop: A-A-Affliction] [Verse One] I say, top of the morning to the local apothecary I’ve acquired a condition that is quite extraordinary It began in Belgravia after three gins and a tonic Now my biological functions are sounding rather electronic My left elbow’s whistling a tune by Debussy While my right knee is leaking a translucent blue tea My pulse is a polyrhythm, five against four And I’ve sprouted a sentient beard that likes to explore (He’s quite well-read!) I went to the surgeon with a skip and a wince He said, "Sir, your gallbladder’s turned into a quince" My perspiration smells of lavender and high-grade diesel And I’ve developed the plumage of a very posh weasel. [Chorus] Oh, it’s a most peculiar, spectacular disease I’m sneezing out diamonds whenever I wheeze (He’s quite wealthy now!) From the future bass drops to the folk-infused trills I’m paying for the thrills with some very strange pills It’s a subcutaneous, spontaneous riot My digestive system has abandoned its diet I’m the Marquess of Malady, the Duke of the Drip With a stiff upper lip and a glowing left hip. [Verse Two] [Technical rap delivery, increasing speed] Listen close to the cadence of a medical mystery I’m making pharmaceutical and lyrical history My uvula’s vibrating like a sub-bass oscillator And I’m seeing the world through a vintage percolator Every time that I blink, there’s a shutter-speed click And my fingernails turn into mahogany, thick I’ve got ten tiny toes that are reciting French prose And a carnivorous lily growing out of my nose (Watch your fingers!) It’s a grand biological, illogical mess I’m essentially a human game of three-dimensional chess The doctors are baffled, the nurses are screaming While my sternum is constantly, vibrantly beaming. [Bridge] [Future Bass Drop] [Aggressive synth wobbles layered with a frantic fiddle solo] [Half-time breakdown] One, two, the symptoms are new Three, four, I’m stuck to the floor (He’s magnetically charged!) My blood is Earl Grey and my bones are stained glass I’m a high-definition, upper-class, medical farce. [Verse Three] [Folk fusion: Banjo and heavy bass interplay] The final stage is the most absurd of the lot My reflection has left me and moved to a yacht I’m speaking in binary, hex, and old Greek With a permanent copper-toned glow on my cheek It’s a chap-hop tragedy, a future bass blight But I’ll look rather dapper in the hospital light I’ve got gears in my gears and a heart made of brass Now please pass the biscuits and a very tall glass. [Chorus] Oh, it’s a most peculiar, spectacular disease I’m sneezing out diamonds whenever I wheeze (He’s quite wealthy now!) From the future bass drops to the folk-infused trills I’m paying for the thrills with some very strange pills It’s a subcutaneous, spontaneous riot My digestive system has abandoned its diet I’m the Marquess of Malady, the Duke of the Drip With a stiff upper lip and a glowing left hip. [Outro] (Toodle-pip!) [Banjo fades into a glitchy, distorted sub-bass hum] [Spoken] Nurse, is it supposed to be glowing purple? No? Oh, bother. [Final stomp-box beat] [End]
