Cough, Cough, Splutter, Splutter

Cough, cough, - splutter, splutter
My lungs feel like, they belong in the gutter
Sniffle, sniffle, Kleenex galore
I don’t know if I can take much more

Bright red nose, sore as can be
There doesn’t seem to be much hope for me
There’s a heap of sandpaper at the back of my throat
I’m freezing cold, please pass me my coat

Shiver, shiver, wrap me up warm
These virus’ take on a peculiar form
Achoo, Achoo, croak, croak
Please excuse me whilst I choke.

My mother had a saying which used to make me laugh
She would tell me as she tied up my scarf
‘Cough it up – it might be a ship’
Then when it’s up, we might all get some kip

I don’t think it’s a ship inside of me
But a monster growling as loud as can be
‘Cos my head feels as though it’s about to explode
And everything I hear seems 10 times echoed

So it’s honey and lemon with a Panadol or two
And a liitle toddy in a nice warm brew
There’s no romantic night for me full of charm
But a hot bath and a tub of tiger balm

(by Gaye Algar)