I kinda feel like this right now.

[___unpleasant]

If there was a god, I'm sure he would be hated
For making bugs, this hell that was created.
Sit on a curb, put on a hat,
I am infested, it happens just like that.
I'm sure I hate 'em,
there ain't no maybes
bodylice and crabs,
headlice and scabies.
You take your pick
it makes me sick
while I scratch until I bleed,
soon there'll be scabs for me to pick.
It drives me mad as I scratch my body raw
Sometimes it feels like sex when I'm scratching with my paws.
Sometimes it feels better when it gets wetter,
lubed up with pus and blood, but later I'm upsetter.

'Cause of the pain,
well, the rash becomes inflamed.
I simply lost control,
the scabies can't be blamed.
Oh! Yes, they can!
I'll go complain
to the drop-in-center clinic,
'Hook me up with some Lindane!'
Oh, yes! Lindane!
The stuff for the occasion
this lotion gives you cancer with too many applications.
But, I must use it!
I'll be the tested,
this time, it's gone too far,
my body is infested.

One bugs, two bugs,
three bugs, four!
These bugs just fuck and eat
soon there'll be hundreds more to
infest my head,
infest my bed,
these bugs won't stop infesting 'till I kill 'em all dead!
And then, there's eggs!
They'll fucking catch,
if I don't delouse again
in seven days, they'll hatch!
And at this time, I will truly go insane
my nervous system shot by the use of the lindane.

It is this lotion, on my generation, tested.
This time, it's gone too far...
my body is infested.