Lyrics

[PETER SKELLERN as SEPTIMUS MEEK (spoken throughout)] Socrates? Socrates? Could I have a word? A small request? [PETER SKELLERN as SOCRATES (sung as chant throughout)] Septimus, old thing, I hope you are well I haven't heard from you of late Saint Peter tells me from old Tom Brown (We met at the Pearly Gate) That you had been suffering from a bad cold And how it had gone to your chest And you sneezed and you wheezed throughout the Lord's Prayer Last month as you laid him to rest And what with the lead from the roof being nicked And Tom's wife running off with a Quaker I thought we'd be hearing from you soon Do you want a word with the Maker? No, no, no, don't trouble him I don't want to be any bother Yes, I'm much better now, thank you I was sent something to rub on by my mother She cures most things from gripe to gout With potions she's kept since the war With pastes and pills she can cure most ills But not sort out this, I'm sure The choir's away, with our best singer On a visit to a neighbouring diocese Do you think you could hurry this one through? A replacement? Nine-thirty? Do try, please! Oh, boy, that's cutting it fine We usually like more warning It's come at a very bad time for us We've a bit of a flap on this morning It seems that some clot here at HQ One of the PR boys, I think Has invited the BBC to film And it's causing a hell of a stink And there's been a breakdown in communications It wasn't till breakfast we knew So you see it's a little bit tricky just now But I'll see what I can do Thank you!