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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
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