Note to Santa

after spelunking up my rear one hundred times or more

A new endeavor , it's forever , there is no cure they say

incontinent and flatulent until my dying day.

So it's been pills and tons of bills , I tell you it's been hard

but last year Uncle Sam sent me a new SSD card.

Now its confusion and infusions , the fun just never ends

and this year if I'm lucky I'll get , some boxes of Depends

The latest thing is joint pain, Sponda something is the call

now when I have to hurry , I can hardly move at all

I'm in a bind come hurry time , I tell you I can't take it

when rushing to the bathroom , most times I just don't make it

So this year when I make my list to send to Santa Clause

I'll keep it brief cause briefs I need, Oh Santa,,bring me drawers

a walking stick to make me quick , a brand new can of Glade

and rolls of paper towels to clean up the mess I've made

Oh Santa bring me patients for the doctor calls I make

for I always get nurse Ratchet , The worse pill I have to take

She's always rude and curt and crude , I hope you know the kind

it seems that every time I call theres a bee up her behind

I guess thats all I can recall , you'll do your best I'm sure

I don't suppose that in your bag, you just might find a cure

for I can take the pain you see , theres something worse my friend

Yes there's the chance I'll crap my pants each time that I break wind...