It attacks you when you're healthy, then worsens by degrees
It preys on busy people, leaving lazy ones alone
And gurgles through their bloodstreams with a satisfying groan.
Language is a fever, it's a sickness in the brain
It chokes you with its meanings, makes you think 'til you're in pain
It feeds on all your knowledge, it breeds in all your words
And pecks your mind to pieces like a flock of screaming birds.
Language is a headache, it's an ailment with no cure
It seduces with great patience, it woos with mad amour
It creeps into the limelight, it sucks up all your time
And kills you with its stories, its novels, and its rhyme.