The Cold

Oh my word I'm snotty
It feels like winter now
I've used up all the tissues
Moved on to paper towels

My nose is constantly streaming
And my eyes have joined in too
The Christmas tree looks like
Just one pretty blurry hue

My bones are one big giant ache
And my head begs to explode
I'm sneezing and I'm coughing
And I've maxed out the full dose

My nose is red like a tomato
My best look this is not
I've spent all day in pj's
And I really don't care a jot

If I were a man I'd be dying
Of man-flu you could be sure
But as I'm not we'll call it a cold
I'll just suck it up and endure

There's no rest for the wicked though
And work it must go on
I'll put one foot in front of the next
And sing this woeful cold song.