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


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