met up with my friend
the sexist in exile
on a tight leash
he keeps the vermin
that gave me the creeps
together 'till the end
us and whatever's addictive
in a pair of tight jeans
the gossamer latex that separated two bodies

what we've got here
is a face in a fever
from the mouth comes the virus
nothing's made cleaner

i've seen the one-track mind
however just in profile
he keeps a shocking feast
leads his women to anxieties and sweets
he is the iguana man
always this repulsive
always accompanied by screams
he spits the virus at the one who sleeps

what we've got here
is a face in a fever
From the mouth comes the virus
nothing's made cleaner