Said an old Injun' Chief quite discretely,
“I need a good doctor, to treat me.
My tribe is bemused
Cuz I'm crazed and confused
From thinking I’m a wigwam or teepee.”
When the shrink completed rendering relief
He billed for professional fees to the Chief.
The Chief went berserk,
"Why so much for no work!
When my time on your couch was so brief?"
The dignified Doc simply winked when he said,
“Tis not for the time, but for talent instead.
Your problem, you see,
Came quickly to me,
Whether wigwam or teepee, it's all in your head.
“Thus in my defense,
My prognosis made sense!
Since I cured you from switchin,’
You can quit with your bitchin,’
Cuz you’re a pot-puffin' skinflint who’s simply ‘too tense!’
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