Tic Lyrics

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