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