The poor old world is feelin’ sick -
Her temp'rature has jumped.
The doctors have tried ev’ry trick
And won’t admit they’re stumped.
Those atom pills don’t cure her ills,
Her pulse get worse each day -
A dozen grains of friendship
Would make the world okay.
She’s suff’ring from "Greeditis" and
"Aggressionitis" too.
The specialists are all on hand
But don't know what to do.
Those atom pills don’t cure her ills,
Her pulse get worse each day -
A dozen grains of friendship
Would make the world okay.
The pour old world in sick of war
And tired of all the strife.
The poor old world is longing for
A quiet, peaceful life.
Those atom pills don’t cure her ills,
Her pulse get worse each day -
A dozen grains of friendship
Would make the world okay.
Her temp'rature has jumped.
The doctors have tried ev’ry trick
And won’t admit they’re stumped.
Those atom pills don’t cure her ills,
Her pulse get worse each day -
A dozen grains of friendship
Would make the world okay.
She’s suff’ring from "Greeditis" and
"Aggressionitis" too.
The specialists are all on hand
But don't know what to do.
Those atom pills don’t cure her ills,
Her pulse get worse each day -
A dozen grains of friendship
Would make the world okay.
The pour old world in sick of war
And tired of all the strife.
The poor old world is longing for
A quiet, peaceful life.
Those atom pills don’t cure her ills,
Her pulse get worse each day -
A dozen grains of friendship
Would make the world okay.
×
![]()
Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.
