The Girl from Porton Down

She was the girl from Porton Down,
I used to see her hanging around,
I thought that we might have a fling,
But she was immune to everything.

Her daddy loved science but was demented,
He injected every antidote that was invented,
Protected from parasites, flukes and worms,
She kills ninety nine percent of all known germs.

Chickenpox, whooping cough, petrol fumes and diesel,
Scarlet fever, mustard gas, toxic frogs or measles,
Ever since she was five years old, she couldn’t even catch the common cold.

The offspring of a chemistry prof,
Who couldn’t stand to hear her cough,
And if she couldn’t get to sleep,
He’d have her count some anthrax sheep.

Her daddy’s name was Grimbledon Treem,
He had a medal from the Queen,
But despite all his chemical farms,
She wasn’t immune to my loving charms.

She was the girl from Porton Down,
And she’s no longer hanging around,
Every night she comes to the gig,
‘Cos she’s my little Guinea Pig.