They say there's a man called the Doctor

With two hearts and a magical box.

If you travel with him—

Dash away on a whim—

You will find he is lost when he talks.

"Hello!" he will say; "I'm the Doctor!"

Yet there's something so sad in his grin.

He won't voice it to you,

Lest he spoil your view,

But he dreams of and yearns for his kin.

And the awful thing about the Doctor,

Which he rues and resents but requires,

Is that everyone leaves

And his loneliness cleaves

Both his hearts and their desperate desires.

So if ever you meet the good Doctor,

If he offers to take you away,

And if you fall in love,

Know that he stands above—

Don't expect him to want you to stay