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