Mrs E. had an infestation
Sucking blood
Causing scabs
All sorts of aggravation
The sort of nippy, crawly mites
You squash
Without thinking
Filthy, nasty little shites
Her body was all pocked, all over
Red and pussy
Weeping
Completely fucking mad they drove her
The more she tried to kill them, the more of them there were
She had a bath in permethrin
Burned them off
And shaved off all her hair
Mr U. (a specialist who’s been around for ever)
Knows Mrs E’s affliction well
Has seen it all before
Says trying to get rid’s an unachievable endeavour
Says once they start they’ll never stop
Says they’ll eat her out and in
And grow and grow in billions
Too many to get shot of, he’s afraid she’s for the chop
Mrs E. was mystified
If there’s nothing left of me she said
There’s nothing left for them
It’s not just me, we’ve all died
Correct said Mr U, it happens all the time
These poxy things have no brain
Just a mouth and an arsehole
A universal paradigm
Resign yourself to your fate he said, things are what they are
The good thing is because of you
They’ll all be dead too
You’ll be looked on as a star