Bones Words and music by Leslie Fish © 1976Am Oh, I could have worked on a research staff. G I could have been stationed on the sea, C G C G Or dug a cozy niche in Diseases of the Rich, Em E But that wasn't good enough for me. (Oh, no!) Am G C G I was tired of the land, of diseases that were bland, Em E And some troubles that I didn't care to face. Am G C G So now I wake each morning to the intercom's warning E Am And I wonder why I ever went to space! Chorus: C Oh, there's aches and pains, and wounds and sprains, G And a space-borne plague or two. C G C G So I'll do my best--I'll run another test E Am And pour myself another mug of brew. Now I serve a starship's crew, with a million things to do, And a headache that I really can't afford, And some crewman's got a pet that I haven't studied yet... Well, at least I must admit I'm never bored. Half the calls I receive Mayo Clinic won't believe, I get sex-lives of the birds on Altair Five. I get fungus that eats glass, I get boils on the ass, And I somehow get the crew back home alive. Chorus: E Am G Am . . . And pour myself another mug of brew. (Thank you!) I get psychos running loose, I get ailing Vegan moose, And hallucinogenic mists upon the breeze. I get viral plagues from Mars, and neurotics from the stars-- Tell me, what am I supposed to do with these? But when the battle's won, and the rush and worry's done, And I've got some time to wonder why I'm here, When I weigh the life that's mine against the one I left behind, What the hell, I guess I'll stay another year! Chorus: E Am G Am . . . And pour myself another mug of brew. (Thank you! G Em Am Have one too!)