Sometimes Make-up is Good.
Out of her cave you see her crawl,
That monstrous face; no make-up at all.
Her putrid skin is red and cracked,
It’s easy to see where acne attacked.
Her blood-shot eyes are muddy- brown.
And one of them just rolls around.
Her hair is red, it’s limp, it’s dead,
And if it snows, she’s just scratching her head.