Everybody hates the Rona. A poem by Sharon Keely

Everybody hates the Rona
(to the tune of Everybody hates Sharona)

Everybody hates the Rona, no-one wants her company
Whenever she shows we all turn on our toes
We run a mile without even a smile

Except at the bars when we’ve had a few jars
Then she gets hugs from all the big lugs
That fun may be lethal for too many people

We are up to the task of wearing a mask
And it isn’t so rough to stay on home turf
If still owned by us Aer Lingus would’nt fuss

We are being faulty on the céad míle fáilte
But better “Contrary” than “Typhoid Mary”
To put run on the Rona we need to be alona

Please don’t be offended, hurts can be mended
We’re in this together for worse and for better
Let’s all live long and bury this song.