Influenza is the kind of disease, Makes you weak down to your knees, Carries a fever everybody surely dreads, Packs a pain in every bone, In a few days, you are gone. To that hole in the ground called your grave.
Lyrics: “Influenza Blues” Essie Ray Jenkins 1919 I have never ever been so fucking sick in my entire life. And from the feedback I’m getting and what I’m reading online its not just me and… Read More »Influenza is the kind of disease, Makes you weak down to your knees, Carries a fever everybody surely dreads, Packs a pain in every bone, In a few days, you are gone. To that hole in the ground called your grave.
