The ballad of disease

Here's the profanity-laced follow-up to my first *hit* single, The stability song. This one was inspired by a heart patient with pneumonia. I figure it has to brighten her mood just knowing that I won't be singing this to her.


Just because it's still dark
Doesn't make it night
Just ‘cause they removed the fat
Doesn’t make it lite.
She’s out of bed,
But fighting a foe.
You can call him Murdoch,
But I’ll call him Moe.

He’s pneumonia
A mean ol’ lung infection
He's pneumonia
Nobody’s candidate for re-election

He’s banned from the A-team
And cut from JV
If he were walking
I'd kick his knee
That surly bastard
Attacking the impaired
Come on, Moe, bring it.
Are you scared?

He's pneumonia
Doesn't rhyme with Jack Sh**
He's pneumonia
Y’know she’ll get over it.

The immune system sounds the bell
does its Truman
And gives him hell
Pneumonia goes down
With a right to the jaw
The crowd cheers wildly
And sings this song

He's pneumonia
Doesn’t rhyme with Jack Sh**
He's pneumonia
Y’know she’ll get over it.

Immune system dances
Cha-cha in the street
Pneumonia shrinks away
He's been beat.

Just because it’s pink
Doesn’t make it dusk
Just because it's perfume
Doesn't make it musk
She's out of bed
And besting her foe
This song should've ended
A long time ago

Pneumonia!
Bloody hell.
Pneumonia.
Go on, get well.