Your nose is runnin' And your eyes are red Your head is achin' You'd be better in bed From the bottom of your fever To the throbbing in your toes You've got a cold You've got a cold
You're searching madly To find a cure But the mercury's rising To a hundred and four You've got a beauty, a bad ass The mother of them all You've got a cold You've got a cold
Ain't no use in fightin' it Get into bed and try to sweat it out
Hot toddies won't help you Warm blankets won't sweat it out Inhalants just choke you Hot flushes will tell you Anyway you've got it Ain't no doubt about it Nothin' new about You can scream and shout it
Hot toddies won't help you Warm blankets won't sweat it out Inhalants just choke you Hot flushes will tell you Anyway you've got it Ain't no doubt about it Nothin' new about You can't fight it
Foreign bodies in your Kleenex You've got no taste at all While your system is dyin' The bugs are havin' a ball You've got a beauty, a bad ass The mother of them all You've got a cold You've got a coldTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
