tangerine mean

why you staring at me, tiny monkeys of tangerine

don’t you little people know it’s downright mean?

i’m not much different from you, funny-lookin’ things

maybe by a few base pairs and a six-inch ling-a-ding

so put those black peepers back in your skull

lest i swat you down ’til you’re bloody dull

and make tiny jackets of you for my babe’s dolls

or have your teeny heads adorn my walls