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