“And who are you?” the crowned germ asked
While flying through our door.
“Only a mite of a different gene,
Who’s trying to be more.

“Your Dad is sick, your Mom is too,
And you’re too weak to act.
Come, serve your king – an honoured guest –
And pray you’ll stay intact.”

I welcomed it, I welcomed it –
This virus crowned in Fear –
And thought of guests at weddings Red
And Rains of Castamere.

I thought of guests at weddings Red
And Rains of Castamere.