| Tiny army slithering through the Marne of me
|
| Tiny enemy, oh what a horrible war!
|
| That’s not fair play, that’s not human decency
|
| How can I give my enemy what for?
|
| My corona, frightening and amazing me
|
| Tiny enemy, inner world war three
|
| That’s not fair play, that’s not human decency
|
| How can we beat an enemy we can’t see?
|
| Bring back all the hijackers and the terrorists
|
| Give me the good old IRA any old day
|
| You knew where you stood with a human enemy
|
| Fighting hand to hand by the light of day
|
| My corona, probably inside me
|
| Stowed away on a twist of RNA
|
| Your spiked helmet spikes here inside of me
|
| Doing what damage? |
| Nobody can say
|
| Not-quite-living thing, I feel you parachute in
|
| To spread ground glass in the cilia of my lungs
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| Are you happy, to take my hospitality
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| And repay me with such horrible pains
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| Sassy assassin, foul insidious toxin
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| Spread by a kiss or lingering in the air
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| Are you hiding in my lover’s tresses
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| Or her sneezes, or her flaxen hair?
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| Tiny army, will you be my Waterloo
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| Kiss me, Hardy, now before I die
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| What immortal hand could frame thee
|
| What eye see thy tiny symmetry?
|
| My corona, frightening and amazing me
|
| Tiny enemy, inner world war three
|
| That’s not fair play, that’s not human decency
|
| How can I beat an enemy I can’t see?
|
| My corona, probably inside me
|
| Stowed away on a twist of RNA
|
| Your spiked helmet spikes inside me
|
| Doing what damage? |
| Nobody can say |