I hold right here in my grimy little hands

The tiniest of vials

A magic elixir to cure all your ills

Guaranteed to bring you a smile

It has the finest of all ingredients

Ever concocted poured into it

From Himalayan Buddhist Monks finger nail dust

To pure Indian cobra snake spit

It'll clean you out of whatever ails you

It'll make you want to join the circus so you can eat fire

It'll burn the hair out of your ears and put them on your chest

Then want to pull them out with industrial pliers

It'll cause the old to do somersaults

And toddlers to sing gospel hymns

This magic elixir I now hold in my hands

So step right up my gullible friends

......And Let The Biding Begin