Kind of Doctor

Title:  Kind of Doctor 

     (thanks, Janet, for letting me bend the rules)            

Author:  Shoshana

Description:  Filk adapted, with extra verses, from “Kind of Woman”     

     from Pippin, music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz.  Companion

     piece to “Kind of Vulcan.”

Pairing:  S/Mc   

Rating:  PG  

Disclaimer:  I do not own Star Trek.  Not a molecule, atom, quark

     or vibrating string of it.  Nor do I own or profit in any way from

     the lyrics of Pippin. Not a stanza, line, word or syllable.

Author’s note:  The reader is invited to view this somewhat

     over-the-top but very competently sung performance of

     “Kind of Woman,” from a Canadian television production of

     Pippin. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tymhh2rC_Ag&feature=related

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m your average, ordinary kind of Doctor

Competent and kind

(Though I made you blind)

Medics as cranky

You meet often I know

At least Doc Pulaski

And there’s that Voyager show     

 

I’m your typical, customary kind of Doctor

My eyes are real blue

My scrub top is too

Hate to transport

Or tell Jim that “he’s dead”

I bet the postmort

Proves the shirt to be red

 

I’m your commonplace, ordinary kind of Doctor

When I got divorced     

To space I was forced   

Born in the South      

I drawl only when tired  

I’m known for my mouth

Not the daughter I sired 

 

I’m your everyday, customary kind of Doctor

I know how to heal

Bad wounds I can seal

Holes in my heart

I can’t seem to repair

But one would depart

Learning someone might care

 

I’m your regular, ordinary kind of Doctor

Good for a consult

Or a quick insult

Loving to argue

I don’t mean to be mean

With words that’ll tar you    

’Bout your blood being green

 

I’m your usual, customary kind of Doctor

I’m oddly unnerved

By eyebrows uncurved

Coy are my carps    

About skin of green tint

And ears pointed sharp

(Can’t you take a damn hint?)

 

I’m your hardly extraordinary kind of Doctor

Occasionally cross

In Sick Bay I’m boss

Perhaps a bit temperamental

Overflowing with zeal      

Just your average ideal

 

My telling you this

May seem sudden and strange

It may not interest you much at all right now

But things change

Things change

 

Still I’ll understand if I’m not your kind of Doctor

Any Vulcan can make

One terrible mistake

But I’ve no vexing habits

Though I do like to mock

For I’m just a plain, bona fide

Peach-eatin’, baggy-eyed

Hard-drinkin’, ornery

Ol’ country doc!

 

      

         

                 S.

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