written by: Dawn DeBraal
Ah, sweet Corona how lively you dance,
One moment in China, the next you’re in France,
One step ahead; we don’t know the score.
You dance with the rich but also the poor.
Behind closed doors, men cower in fear,
Placate the masses. “There’s no story here.”
The rumor is whispered on everyone’s lips
Is this the end? The apocalypse?
Ah, sweet Corona, you take away breath
The numbers still grow, in counting death.
Life seems so empty it’s, such a shame.
Nothing, no nothing, will be the same.