Song for a sick baba by a sicker mama

Let me wipe your little nose,
And rub your little chest.
You can wipe it on my clothes,
I'm sure baby knows best.

Let me give you medicine
To cool your fever off,
Or maybe let me duck the spray
As it's spattered by a cough.

Let me rock you, crooning gently,
As your cries rock the street
And I grow frailer ment'ly
With every aching beat.

Let me hold you in my arms
As your nose and eyes are runny
So the smears of grime run down your face
And all across my tummy -

Let me feed you milk and water
Lest you dehydrate,
And let me clear your nose, my daughter,
In case you suffocate.

Let me cough myself but duck
So's not to cough on you
And let me sneeze and wheeze and blow my nose
From three am to two -

But let me first try menthol
On a hankie near your bed
So that maybe you can sleep it off,
This cold of chest and head.

Let me nurse you through this cold
And make you good and better,
Then I'll be ill in my own time
And we'll hope for better weather.