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