A response of sorts to Plastics by John-Michael Morgan.
Flee from me female
Your head is full of air
Your plastic skin makes me sick
I hate your bleached out hair
You act like you're so holy
You're up and we're all down
But we all know you're the town bar
And everyone's had a round
Someday you'll get what you deserve
When some guy knocks you up
He'll lay you low and drag you down
Then you'll be shit out of luck
It makes me laugh but I still feel sick
Every time that you walk by
Every time you talk out loud
And spit in someone's eye
So I'm going to say it right to your face
It's the least that I can do
I hate you more than Hitler
You make me fucking puke
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