Being Sick

I heard of a gal in a city
Who I heard is not feelin so pretty
She coughs and she hacks,
She sneezes and quacks
She said that she’s catching a bitty

Well I think that you’ve caught something more
From the explosions I hear through the floor
You’re all washed out,
You’re not up and about
And you’re sleeping in a caved out armoire.

Sleep is the thing that you need,
When sickness is wracking your tweed
So here’s my advice,
To you, sleep twice
I’ll see you tomorrow’s eve.

Get better soon huney! I miss you, and I wish I could be there for you being sick.  šŸ˜¦

-Phil

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