Helmet Tic
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
