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