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Parody of “Unwell”, words and music by Rob Thomas (Matchbox Twenty)

For more information and other parodies, see www.songworm.com
Parody lyrics ©2020-03-31 by Bob Kanefsky. All rights reserved. The copyright of the original lyrics and music remain with the holder(s) of the original copyright.

This Matchbook 20 parody is my of 20 songs of 2020. It was inspired the first time I ventured out after strictly complying with my county's shelter-in-place order. I was in a drugstore buying something I didn't want to wait several days for (Amazon was still adjusting) and as I was reading the label, any symptoms of writer's block I might have been experience were suddenly relieved as I became aware that the drugstore had a sound system and they were playing "Unwell" (a great title for a drugstore's playlist if there ever was one.) I spent the whole walk home writing the parody when I wasn't ducking into alleys whenever another pedestrian came within a block of me. ~~~ This song and many that followed serve as great time capsules for my thinking at the time, although I wasn't quite as depressed as the narrator of this one. We really did think that enough people would avoid contact that it would die out in the U.S. within a few weeks, like in New Zealand. The two Zoom conventions I'd been to were an unexpectedly good substitute for many of us, felt to a surprising extent like going somewhere (when I in fact was in the same chair looking at the same monitor where I'd worked for three weeks), and still seemed "novel, exciting, and rare" as I reflected a few months later. The bridge reflects that I was conscious that I was relatively lucky to be in a kind of job where I could work remotely, and underestimated how many others in the con-going filk community were equally privileged and how few would lose their jobs.

All night
Nestled in my desk chair making
friends with thumbnails on a screen.
All day
hearing voices streaming and
it makes me feel all right
because at least it’s like my mind
went somewhere.

Holed up.
Hopefully we’re heading off the
Outbreak.
Too early to tell.

Chorus:

(I’m) not infected; I’m just a little unwell. I think! No tests; I can’t tell. But nonetheless it’s always best you be At least six feet from me. I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unnerved. I think Right now, you’re best served To wash your hands and heed the CDC, And stay six feet from me.

Please.
I’m paranoid enough in public:
Dodging strangers on the train.
And I see,
I see them sitting close together
Just like people used to
It’s as if some folks refuse to even try,
I guess,
Suppose they could be roommates, maybe
Lovers, under one roof.

(Chorus)

I’ve been workin’ from my home!
My commute is, like, six inches!
All my friends have been laid off...