| The tic begins where's the manned end? | |
| The climate change will never get in | |
| Silent and strong and prepossessed | |
| You never need to make your own mess | |
| Weasel to me in charming to some | |
| Loathsome and glib | |
| Habits like self-love | |
| Wearing slim fast you carve your niche | |
| Lean smug back and work your pitch | |
| And all the way i'm gone, no | |
| Demon race to find | |
| You paint it up and know that | |
| Any face can lie | |
| Affect my greatest style, what | |
| Suits me best of all | |
| Keep my pocket filled, lean right and | |
| Fall |
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