It’s lack of social distancing I fear
each time some numbskull prances near,
it’s then a twisted new refrain
comes fast, unbidden, to the brain:
“Tonight the superspreader bugs are gonna find me, gasping out for air,
wheezing, needing care,
feeling like I need a prayer.”
What’s the problem with these chancers,
inching close like bloody dancers?
Do I need a six-foot stick,
or do they need a damn good kick?
“Superspreader bugs are gonna mind me, I may need a pill,
yes, I’m sure I will
if someone in the crowd feels ill.”
Each time some numbskull prances near
it’s lack of social distancing I fear.
With apologies to Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus. This coronaverse brought to you by the letter S.