My consultant, Mr F, had spent 5 years tending to my every need
I used to fall asleep, albeit quite peacefully and tenderly
Until recently I fell asleep quite dreadfully and terribly
It was the bad drug that Mr F gave to me

I used to say he'll be gone in a few years, just like every other guy
You put your trust in these consultants, then they just say bye
Like I was nothing to them, just another narcoleptic cry
Mr F refused to leave, and I never knew why

He'd made the cure for mortality
Refused to share it with anyone, even me
His favourite patient to see
Mr F's good drug was nowhere to be seen

Decades and decades had passed in time
Mr F still called himself mine
My consultant to keep me fine
Till he committed the worst crime

I was 101, and Mr F was much more
One day I knocked upon his door
"Share the immortality drug with me!" I implored
Of course, he replied, it's in my drawer

To the drawer he reached, and with a slam
The good drug was in my hand
Old and useless, I took the chance
And was preyed on by his final scam

Alas, it was the bad drug!
The only drug that gives a bad hug
After all my years of Mr F's love
He killed me with the bad drug!

Our eyes locked as I fell to the floor
"I'd never share that drug, you fool!"
He laughed and pushed me out the door
To die with his eyes looking at me, so cruel.

My soul withered within my empty shell
As I descended down to hell
The last image in my sunken mind
The bad drug, in Mr F's eyes.