SOCIAL DISTANCE

Social Distance

Disinfect, disinfect, disinfect,
Keep them greasy fingertips of yours in check.
Keep your hands out your face, keep your hands to yourself,
Keep the sani’ in your pocket and the wipes on the shelf.
Open door handles with the sleeve of your shirt,
Re-apply the sani’, a good one-two squirt.

I got non-perishables, stacked three rows deep,
Expiration dates show that this shit will keep.
My frozen meal game about to overflow,
Shout out to Tombstone and Trader Joe.
Packs of deli meat piled high like bricks,
With some sharp cheddar cheese thrown into the mix. 

My TP supply is modest, cuz I ain’t no jerk,
Who needs a thousand rolls when ten or twelve will work?
You can go to the store in just a couple of weeks,
And pick up more beauty wipes to polish your cheeks.
This isn’t the end of the world, at least I hope it’s not,
I’ve got my fingers crossed for aliens, the Mars Attacks plot.