True Story

Well for Science I was labbin',
And my finger I was stabbin',
          With a pin to try and draw a drop of blood,
Which I would smear upon a slide,
To the end of being dyed,
          So I could see all of them leukocytes and crud.

Now the times were 'round a dozen,
That I stuck the needle's cousin,
          In the index finger that ain't on my right,
But so thickly grew the callous,
That despite the pinpoint's malice,
          Not a single spot of red came into sight.

Then my head began to lighten,
And my vision to de-brighten, 
          And before I knew it everything went black.
I'd passed out-or so it seems,
Because I had these crazy dreams,
          And when they ended there was floor against my back.

Thus my noggin got to achin',
(And my elbow might have braken)
          But the medics said I'd probably be fine,
And though my mom was worried mad,
I can't keep from feeling glad, 
          'Cause now I've got an injury that's mine!