The Grate Plague

It starts with a little flea, that jumps upon a rat

It bites the rat and gives it germs, and for the rat that's that

Then the flea it looks for, somewhere else to find its food

It hops on you and me and starts to suck our blood

First you feel a little poorly

And then you start to swell

Then you start to spit some blood

And then you really smell

Then you know its time to ring, your funeral bell

Along comes mr. Death

And swishes you to hell

There's lots of cures to help you

If you have the cash.

Kill the village cats and dogs

And burn them all to ash

Sit down in a sewer, so the smell drives plague away

Place chicken bottoms on your spots, and then you'll be okay

First you feel a little poorly

And then you start to swell

Then you start to spit some blood

And then you really smell

Then you know its time to ring, your funeral bell

Along comes mr. Death

And swishes you to hell

Plague kills little children, even more then mums or dads

A priest said its because, the wicked kids have acted bad

Half the people on the earth, are simply blown away

So for mr death these will be really busy days

First you feel a little poorly

And then you start to swell

Then you start to spit some blood

And then you really smell

Then you know its time to ring, your funeral bell

Along comes mr. Death

And swishes you to hell

And swishes you to hell