Not Another Thing Up There

[Verse 1] i’m the village healer, i mend what’s broke from septic toes to a wheezy bloke but these days i swear on the bishop’s chair — they only come in with things up there no fevers, coughs, no blood, no gout just a wink and a limp and a “can you get it out?” i trained in herbs, in poultice lore… not in extractin’ jugs from a chambered floor --- [Chorus – harmonised and bouncy] 🎵 not another thing up there, i beg ye, please no more flutes or wheels of cheese no more goblets, forks or pails or that lad who came with two fishing scales 🎵 not another thing up there, i’m at my limit and you can’t just say “oh, me just sort of sat in it” my tongs are bent, and my soul’s not fair — i’m the healer, not the rectal au pair --- [Verse 2] young tom came in with a pewter bell said “i tripped on moss and i slipped as well” but the bell was tied to a leather strap and rung every time that he dared to nap old margery swore she’d sat on a chair but the chair was a knight, and he’s still in there he blinked and said “i regret this post” and now he’s wedged in her like a Sunday roast --- [Chorus – faster, more exasperated] 🎵 not another thing up there, for heaven’s sake no more trenchers full of stew and cake no more ladles, no more mugs no more ferrets trained to fetch lost plugs 🎵 not another thing up there, this ain’t what i studied and the goat with the crossbow — now that got bloody i beg you all, try a diff’rent dare — you don’t need to stuff the choirware --- [Bridge – flute solo as the healer drinks heavily] [fiddle joins, someone sighs off-stage. a faint "oh no, not again" is heard.] --- [Verse 3] the mayor came by, red-faced and tense said “this ain’t mine, it belongs to my prince” but the sceptre had his name in runes and a tag that read: “for special noons” a bard showed up with a tambourine wedged so deep he could barely scream it rattled when he walked away and now he plays in the arsehole ballet --- [Final Chorus – full harmony, crowd clapping] 🎵 not another thing up there, i swear to the sky next one’s bringin’ a full pork pie and if one more lad says “oops, my lord” i’m tappin’ out and joinin’ the sword 🎵 not another thing up there, no pins, no dishes no bells, no beans, no wrigglin’ fishes i’m out of tongs, out of prayers, outta care — may the gods help thee… and thy furnish’d rear 🎵