You shower, you powder, but yet you still glisten like the Eiffel Tower.
You ponder, you fret, even the sunset; with a stillness in the night that makes you never sleep tight.
It’s hot, it’s sticky, and the fish market smells icky.
The fly’s, the fly’s, they keep a keen eye; they wait, they attack, to suck the sweat off your back.
It’s June It’s July oh please just pass by, it’s August its September let’s please get to November.
Rejoice it’s gone, and we all can move on. We party, we live life, well into the night, we sleep, we wake and we are productive all day!
We enjoy, we stay, and then we all go come May…
Humidity, Humidity! Why can’t you pity me?