Oh the things you can fill
For the folks who are ill.
With your bright shiny spatula
Oh, what a thrill.
Besmocked and bedecked out
In Pharmacist clothes
Knowing all of the things
That a Pharmacist knows.
You're quick and efficient,
You're sharp and inventive.
It also just happens
You're anal retentive.
You read slips of paper
To get the specifics
From doctors who scribble out
Strange hieroglyphics.
Could it be Celebrex?
Or maybe Celexa
It might be a Z-Pack
Then it might be Zyprexa
And you bill by computer
AWP
Minus 15 percent
Plus a buck twenty-three.
You fill and you bill
And you feel so dejected
'Cause half of your claims
Are being rejected.
So you pick up the phone
While computerized voices
Keep you waiting forever
Explaining the choices.
Press 1 for directions.
Or maybe it's 2.
Push 'pound' for a message
Oh, what should you do.
Then you pour out the pills
On your pill counting tray
And you count, and you count
And you count pills all day.
You count them by fives
To the rhythm and beat
Of the songs that you learned
On Sesame Street
And the customers gripe
And complain while you're fillin'
Could it be the whole world
Is on 'Grouchacillin?'
My pills are too big
And my co-pay's too high!
Take it four times a day?
I cannot comply!
Then you scarf down your
sandwich
In one single bite
Which if done in a restaurant
Would be impolite
But a Doc's on line one
Mrs. Jones on line two
She has 500 pills
Will you cut them in two?
And the drug reps, they tap
On your counter, tap, tap.
To give you their spiel
Plus a load of free stuff!
There's pens and there's post-its
There's free stuff galore
But the really cool clock's
For the doc who's next door
Then ol' Mrs. Snifflemore
Gives you that smile
And you know once again
That it's almost worthwhile
So you hang up your smock
And put down your free pen.
Tomorrow you'll do it
All over again.
Oh the things you will fill
For the folks who are ill.
With your bright shiny spatula
Oh, what a thrill!
The End