Paul Braamberg

Take this jab - lyrics

Now in the world there’s a bursting pandemic
Many a shoulder where death comes to cry
There’s no ICU with two billion beds
Many a nurse exhausted goes by
There’s no procession of orphans
All forced to distance themselves
Aey, aey, aey, aey
A vaccine, a vaccine, a vaccine
Make a vaccine or we all gonna die

Oh I want you, I want you, I want not – to infect you
Be in self-iso-lonely and home-sick
Bye to our faceless parents death-masks
Their eyes gloom like our kids doomed to zoom
Because in beds the dew has been spreading
A suffocating breath, a silent alarm
Aey, aey, aey, aey!
There’s a jab, there’s a jab
Get that tired nurse’s spike in your arm

That jab, that jab, this jab
Will roll the viruses out to the sea
Refill life with freedom and breath

But there’s an anti-vaxxers maldemic
Of influencers with burning ambitions
Whose noose-clicks are gallowing baits
Fishing our fear for the nurse’s injection
Aey, aey, aey, aey, even you – afraid?
You, in stream of sell-fish deniers?
Left waltzing where we all walk right
Aey, aey, aey, aey
These tired nurses, will they care for you?
And for me? Ow, you certainly not
With your “I’ll never infect you, you know!”

Why, aey, aey, aey, it’s a lie!

Now in India there’s no Suzan at the Ganges
Corpses float their songs to the sea
The living beg us for jabs and O₂
The illing mass-spawning the grounds
Of garlandic modifications, one billion or two
Double mutants at once and for all
Aey, aey, aey, aey
Make more jabs, billions more jabs
And give them away, so we all may survive

These jabs, these jabs, these billions of jabs
Fill our world with freedom and breath
And drag the viruses tales to the sea.

Oh I want you, I want you, I want us
To dive in a crystal clear river
We’ll dance through the flood of our fairness
And we’ll caress the dew of our dunes
We’ll have cheesecake and cigars
My cheap jokes and your white wine
And we’ll fly to the moon and to mars
Rememb’ring the nightmare, long gone
While our guardian angels, these tired nurses
Will linger at home, picking mangoes from maradise
Oh my dear, oh my world
Take this jab, take this jab
Please. It’s yours now. It’s all that we need.

© Paul Braamberg, May 2021