Placebo Music, lyrics: Henrik Widegren Say that you believe in me And I'll believe it too Say that this will work out And it will do Say that I can fly And I’ll grow wings of steel Say that you will surely cure me And I will heal Placebo. I feel so Good when I take your placebo Placebo. And we know It works when I’m on placebo It is cheap and I have checked Not a single side effect Placebo. We’ll go And buy a kilo of placebo Doctor, say that I’ll be fine And my fever’s gone Say that I’m a healthy guy And I’ll move on Say that this is medicine Even though it is gin You just fake it. I will take it It is no sin Placebo. I feel so Good when I get your placebo Placebo. And we know It works when I’m on placebo Some say it’s unethical I say it is magical Placebo. We go And buy a kilo of placebo But when you sigh: This isn’t going well I trust you and I think I’ll end up in hell I feel ill. I feel depressed. I am wrecked I suffer from your nocebo effect And I know, I know, I know… What I want Placebo. I feel so Good when I get your placebo Placebo. And we know It works when I’m on placebo They say it’s only sugar pills I say it will cure my ills Placebo. We go And buy a kilo of placebo

I look in the mirror Mirror on the wall The usual view But is that really all? I am much more Than I can see I want to know What’s hidden in me I go online To a site with a dude Who will give me the truth If I spit in a tube I give you my DNA And you give me away I send all my genes You say what they mean Take all of my DNA I have plenty of it anyway Genes never lie Who am I? And while I am waiting I start having dreams Of the big secrets Deep down in my genes Will I get freckles? How many percent Of my DNA Are from Tashkent? Do I hate cilantro? Am I part Neanderthal? Do I like sweet or salty? Am I related the Tsar? Chorus But then I get the e-mail This was not the plan I discover that my father Is another man When I read on I grow weak and I slump Down on the floor My dad is Donald Trump Chorus

You won’t know you are stupid If you’re stupid enough You won’t know you’re no good If you are a bluff When you don’t know what you’re thinking It’s easy to be tough You don’t know what you are missing If you don’t know your stuff You can’t know your incorrect You won’t know that you’re inept It is hard to self-percept When you don’t know what to expect What is this brain defect? The Dunning-Kruger effect //: Dunning-Kruger effect. Oh-la-la-la :// When he was arrested He said: ”But I wore the juice” And he was flabbergasted I read in the news Yes, he wore the lemon juice So how’d they found a way? How did they see his face? Now he’s locked away When you lack competence You can gain confidence Cause your incompetence Causes this consequence Why this lack of intellect? The Dunning-Kruger effect //: Dunning-Kruger effect. Oh-la-la-la :// //: He wore the juice The lemon juice How was there a way To see his face To see his face Now he’s locked away :// When you’re not all that smart Not exactly off the charts It is normal that you start To think with your heart That you’re state of the art Perhaps a new Descartes A warrior taking part In intellectual martial art But you really should suspect The Dunning-Kruger effect //: Dunning-Kruger effect. Oh-la-la-la ://

What is happening to me? I have a fever But at the same time I feel fine I am a scientist Not a believer Why do I feel like I’ve been drinking wine According to my medical history It started when I met Miss Marie I must dig deep in my chart What is happening in my heart? It’s the chemistry of love It is sent from above It’s a gift from the brain It is running through my veins now so Itty-bitty pretty peptides I want to have a lot of Nice neurotransmitters It’s the chemistry of love Dopamine is released By my neurons It makes me happy Makes me feel good Norepinephrine Is another hormone It makes me tremble, blush and sweat More than I should But my serotonin is slowly heading down Making me focus on only the one Oxytocin is released when we caress And the sex hormones make us want to undress It’s the chemistry of love (The chemistry of love) It is sent from above (Central nervous system) It’s a gift from the brain (The ventral tegmental area) It is running through my veins (The arteries and veins) Itty-bitty pretty peptides (Small, small proteins) I want to have a lot of (High concentrations) Nice neurotransmitters (Connecting to receptors) It’s the chemistry of love (Pure love) But there is a catch, a love limitation Unlike the stars up above Receptors are prone to down-regulation You can’t be forever in love It’s the chemistry of love (Oh baby, it’s love) It is sent from above (Straight from heaven) It’s a gift from the brain (The muscle of love) It is running through my veins (It’s pumping, it’s pumping) Itty-bitty pretty peptides (The size doesn’t matter) I want to have a lot of (Give me. I can take it) Nice neurotransmitters (Those sexy synapses) It’s the chemistry of love (It’s true love) Chemistry of love. Sent from above. Running through my veins (Love juice in the system) Chemistry of love. Sent from above (Those marvellous molecules) Chemistry of love. Sent from above. Running through my veins (Marie, you are toxic) Chemistry of love. Sent from above (And I love it)

They call me Doctor Death I have done much wrong And I will go to jail Listen to my song It started on a rainy day The test of my vocation A rude and angry patient Demanded an operation He wanted to be first in line Even though it was benign I thought: What the heck And wrapped my stethoscope around his neck They call me Doctor Death I have done much wrong And I will go to jail Listen to my song And he will go to jail Listen to his song A man with a beaten wife Claimed she walked into a door A scalpel is a knife And he was no more A lady with a cold Demanded penicillin I gave her something killing But her germs are still living To the ER came this guy: ”I have googled, and it’s true I may have psoriasis” Now he’s in ICU They call me Doctor Death I have done much wrong And I will go to jail Listen to my song And he will go to jail Listen to his song Then a pushy patient Said he’d call his lawyer I helped him out the door He tripped in the foyer Twelve times in the foyer A man with a small blister Yelled and ordered morphine I said: ”Of course mister” He got i.v. gasoline At a nice and fancy dinner This lady said: ”You’re a doctor! Could you please check my hemorrhoids?” ”Of course”. Then I shot her They call me Doctor Death I have done much wrong And I will go to jail Listen to my song They call me Doctor Death I have done much wrong And I will go to jail Listen to my song And he will go to jail Listen to his song

You wake up by my side Last night was magical In the darkness of the night Nothing was logical I hear the birds in the tree In comes the sun You turn around and look at me Your smile is gone I’m not a man for Instagram But please, don’t run away Baby, baby, listen to What I have to say I look good in x-ray In x-ray I look nice Use any other camera And I need a disguise I look good in x-ray In x-ray I look good But on other pictures I should wear a hood I know it sounds like The worst pickup routine But come with me to my lab And you’ll see what I mean I’ll show you pictures with no filters Made of long gamma rays They are all in black and white They’re fifty shades of gray Then when you have seen me You can decide The most important things are All on the inside I look good in x-ray In x-ray I am cute In normal daylight I am a brute I look good in x-ray In x-ray I am sweet But I don’t need a mask To trick or treat Look and you will see Radiology Is certainly for me Like plastic surgery If you saw that my humerus Is very far from tumorous Our kisses would be numerous And you’d lend me your uterus I look good in x-ray In x-ray I am fine If you had seen my spine You would be mine I look good in x-ray In x-ray I am hot With any other camera I am not I look good in x-ray I am beautiful My tibia is lovely And so is my skull I look good in x-ray I am fabulous My clavicle is sexy And so is my gluteus

Something is wrong I can feel it It is getting worse By the minute I have met twenty specialists And I am not a pessimist But they just don’t believe it Please, and I mean it Can someone just reveal it Give me a diagnosis It may be bad Just give me a reason And I’ll be glad I don’t need any medicine I don’t need a spell But give me a diagnosis And I’ll be well If I was an ancient greek To sad to smile They’d say I was weak With too much black bile Two hundred years ago in Paris They had mesmerism They would say that I lacked Animal magnetism In the eighteen hundreds I would have neurasthenia Sigmund Freud would have said: ”Probably hysteria” And if I was a housewife In the sixties in the US
I would take valium Because of too much stress Give me a diagnosis I am not okay I’ll agree with everything Everything you say Hand me a disease An illness that is mine Give me a diagnosis And I’ll be fine The chiropractor told me The problem was my spine The crystal healer made me feel her Aura as a sign The homeopath was fast And sold me a dilution And the Reiki healer said the chakra Was the solution Give me a diagnosis So that they will see Low-grade inflammation Or some deficiency You can give me anything But just not a neurosis No one understands me Without a diagnosis Give me a diagnosis I don’t care what it is I just want to know What it is I miss Incorrect osmosis Faulty DNA Give me a diagnosis And I will be okay

We live in a world that’s uncertain We take a chance and we pray The reaper is always lurking We increase our odds every way An assessment is like a butterfly It lives only one day Nothing is black, nothing is white Everything is gray But when CRP is less than five There is light CRP is less than five A beacon in the night No one will die today The nearest grave is far away When CRP is less than five It will go away Symptoms flutter in the wind Nothing is like in the books Zebras mingle with horses Things aren’t always how they look Soak your index finger Where does the wind blow? Take a drop of your blood And you will know CRP is less than five There is light CRP is less than five A beacon in the night A very welcome sign A solid lifeline When CRP is less than five It will be fine When CRP is less than five There is light CRP is less than five A beacon in the night A most welcome sight Printed in black and white CRP is less than five When CRP is less than five There is light CRP is less than five A beacon in the night No one will die today The nearest grave is far away When CRP is less than five It will go away

Once upon a time there was a cardiologist who fell in love and wrote a song to the conqueress of his heart. But a cardiologist doesn’t think of love in the same way as other people do. This is what he sang: You are so beautiful And so is your heart Your valves and your ventricles Are state of the art Say you will marry me And show me your ECG I do not want sex I want your QRS complex But his friend, the surgeon, thought otherwise. He would have sung: You are so beautiful Please, be my bride And I will open you To see what’s inside The things in your abdomen I want to fondle them Don’t be repelled I’ll close the wound so well Enter the psychiatrist. He considered his colleagues lousy poets: You are so beautiful Even though you’re my mother I think like Oedipus There is no other And if you are blue I’ll ECT you Love you, I will You are my happy pill Now the anaesthesiologist woke up. But she had other ideas: You are so beautiful When you’re asleep No, please do not think That I’m a creep You’re quiet and wonderful When your pupils are small Like Snow White, my bliss I’ll wake you with a kiss Finally, the neurosurgeon weighed in. He too held love in high esteem, albeit from a different angle: I am so beautiful But you’re also fine If you are the lucky one You can be mine Show me your love for me Let me do your craniotomy My love is unflawed You may call me God

Monday morning I see the sun The sky is blue My blues are gone I dance to work I shine like gold Finally I’m in control I’m in command. I am an alligator I am your hospital administrator DRG Is what makes me free It’s healthcare ABC It’s the master key DRG Is the only way To make doctors say: Okay It’s complicated Hard to understand So I always have The upper hand I have my doctors On a leash I’m in charge Capisce? Hippocrates oath is a byway It’s my way or the highway DRG Is what makes me free It’s healthcare ABC It’s the master key DRG Is my only chance To make doctors sing And dance No, I don’t make medical decisions These are financial incisions Doctor, do what you want, honey But then you can forget my money I am on the tower of power As long as I get my DRG shower DRG DRG Is what makes me free It’s healthcare ABC It’s my reason to be DRG Is my heart and soul Budget rock and roll I am in control DRG I make money talk Rise, take up thy bed And walk

Good night And sleep well Snoring can reach One hundred decibels How can he sleep With the sound Of a chainsaw From his mouth Mucosa vibrates As tissues recline You married a prince You got a swine The palate shakes Silence is absent And you want to break God’s fifth commandment Good night And sleep tight Don’t get mad At your partner because when we sleep, the brain shuts off all auditory input that does not signal danger So don’t pick a fight But what then to do With the love of your life How do you solve This nocturnal strife Your love for your partner is endless, like space But picture a pillow Pressed down on his face Push hard and whisper: ”I love you” He will stop fighting When he turns blue Good night Pretend it rains Tomorrow you’re rested And hide his remains Good night Peaceful bliss Give your darling one last kiss

Now and then things go bad Despite a perfect operation Something bleeds. The heart is sad There’s some unexpected complication But there’s a solution. Yes, I am sure There is always a cure Blame anesthesia When things don’t go well Blame anesthesia When wounds start to smell They’re always in scrubs And play with their tubes They fiddle with drugs And mess with their lubes Blame anesthesia When everything goes to hell You can also blame the OR nurse For her poor hygiene Or blame the intern, that always works But I suggest this routine: When things go wrong. Don’t even flinch Point at the one with the syringe Blame anesthesia When the shit hits the fan Blame anesthesia A universal plan They play with their cables And their machines They fiddle with their needles Full of morphine Blame anesthesia From Sweden to Japan A patient in coma Not your fault Is there a pneumonia? Not your fault Is there a bleeding? Not your fault Is there no healing? Not your fault A post-op infection Not your fault Aortic dissection Not your fault A bad inflammation Not your fault Any complication Not your fault If there is pus You know what to do You missed the bus You know what to do You hit your head You know what to do Michael Jackson is dead You know what to do Blame anesthesia When things are going south Shame anesthesia When the lawyers open their mouths An emphysema A patient in pain A massive oedema Or if it rains Blame anesthesia And everything is fine But if everything goes well: Congratulations! You are swell!