But it is far too cold,
Unless an infestation's in the house,
In cavities untold,
Like a cancer coursing through one's body,
With no symptom in sight,
'Less she bothered to get checked like she should,
Given her hist'ry with that sing'lar blight,
But sometimes we only see what we want,
Listen to me, 'sometimes'!
And if we're lucky, how things need to be,
Don't cross others' lines,
Few are lucky,
Even more just settle,
'Cause it's much easier to tow that line,
Than to change the colour of that kettle.