One sickee two sickee I see three.
I’m so glad that it’s not me.
Had my bout, all last week.
I know what it’s like to peek
Through tired eyes and throbbing head,
When ya can’t stop coughing in your bed
And when your nose won’t cease to run –
Let me tell you, it’s not fun.
We’d like your prayers, dear friends and fam,
While we feast on bread and jam.
We should drink tea and chicken soup
But we’re just not that kind of group.
We like our carbs, oh yes we do!
But ‘praps it’s time for some beef stew.
Taylor sounds perkier at the sink
(I should remind them all to drink)
(no, WATER my friends, don’t think that way!
it’s good for you, or so they say)
I should go and lend a hand
To taylor, washing frying pans.
They’re all sickees, yes indeed.
Steve sickee, T sickee, Adele makes three.