Buddy wasn’t into shaking hands.
Even tho he could, his germs had plans.
Kept him at bay, fear was a factor.
Humans at the front, Buddy use a back door.
Sneak around the badness.
Taking just a few less
Breaths without constraint.
Buddy knows it ain’t
Go ahead, breathe easy.
Free breath makes him queasy.
Killers filling up his lungs.
One clear breath and he’s undone.
C’mon death, come get him!
Take him and all his fear.
Take him to that hot, hot place.
Where Angels also fear
To tread upon the living dead.
There’s germs galore down here!