Your nose is runnin'

And your eyes are red

Your head is achin'

You'd be better in bed

From the bottom of your fever

To the throbbing in your toes

You've got a cold

You've got a cold



You're searching madly

To find a cure

But the mercury's rising

To a hundred and four

You've got a beauty, a bad ass

The mother of them all

You've got a cold

You've got a cold



Ain't no use in fightin' it

Get into bed and try to sweat it out



Hot toddies won't help you

Warm blankets won't sweat it out

Inhalants just choke you

Hot flushes will tell you

Anyway you've got it

Ain't no doubt about it

Nothin' new about

You can scream and shout it



Hot toddies won't help you

Warm blankets won't sweat it out

Inhalants just choke you

Hot flushes will tell you

Anyway you've got it

Ain't no doubt about it

Nothin' new about

You can't fight it



Foreign bodies in your Kleenex

You've got no taste at all

While your system is dyin'

The bugs are havin' a ball

You've got a beauty, a bad ass

The mother of them all

You've got a cold

You've got a cold