Lyric 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