The halls are alive with the sound of mucus,
A sound that’s well known, when the springtime nears
I, too, feel the pain and the sound of mucus
And each hacking cough brings me close to tears

I just want to rise from the rash and the watery eyes,
From the mold and the trees.
I want to escape when the pollen flies,
Without having to sneeze
Instead I must deal with the aches and itching
That plagues me each day,
And asthma as well,
An allergy that’s here to stay.

I dream of the day when my pain is over,
Hay fever will pause, as it has before,
There will be an end to this sound of mucus
And I'll breathe once more