I’m possessed by demons
I need a herd of pigs
You may judge, you may be right
I don’t heed a fig.

I’ve also got a bubbly rash
The cream it does no good
It spreads it round, it doth abound
And then it dries like wood.

My friend he has a cold sore
I feel his awful pain
He may be anointing with the oil
But it comes back again.

So to find a friend in Jesus
He never will recoil
He’ll love us all both big and small
Whatever scabs or boil.

They say that Job had blisters
Yet he had to keep his faith
To show some pluck and with some luck
Your health thou shall regain.

 by Meryl Williams