“Insurance card, please.
It has to be found.”
Zzzzzz goes the drill;
bzzzzz goes the drill;
here’s to a root canal;
there’s to a root canal;
here’s to a crown;
there’s to a crown;
he’s gettin’ crowns
all around where
his teeth are found,
but the insurance limit
was reached after just
one crown.
“Could you reuse one
of my crowns?”
They just laughed
saying, “He’s such a clown.”
“But we can keep on
drillin’, ’cause
more gold, in that
there mine shaft,
is sure to be found,”
said both the dentist
and the insurance
company in perfect
harmony.
“Bank account balance,
please, you silly clown.”