You probly can’t get gas no more, and so
It’s probly no use to think about your car
They shut the borders down, the planes are on the ground, anyway how could you get to an airport from where you are
Answering machines are all the answers you get,
whatever knowledge you find, is bound to be vague

chorus:
It’s love, love, love
Love in the time of plague
It’s love, love
Love in the time of plague

I can guess which flat you might be hiding in
but I wouldn’t go knocking on doors randomly
There’s a lantern behind the curtains, was it
one if by land and two if by sea
Got a scarf over my nose and mouth, but there’s a
nasty something on my leg

chorus

I could write you a letter, but I don’t think the mail will get through
I must have misplaced the playbook of what to do
Your face, your voice, your skin is alive
deep in my memory
I might go out to the woods, carve your name in a tree

The sounds on the radio mean nothing
they’re just noises in the air
i’ve started hearing strange and soothing
voices from somewhere
I’m dressing in strange costume, like I’m
s’posed to be onstage

chorus

(lyrics: Dan Bern)