1 tale about plastic surgery freakery

I said you should have plastic surgery
to make you look sweet
but I wasn't planning on drastic butchery
and now your face is a squashed old seat
I said you should have plastic surgery
and turn back some time
but they grafted plastic school chairs on your face
In the colour of lime
And you looked distorted
And people sat on your face
They wouldn't sit by you on trains
you were alone as a desert plain

I told you to have plastic surgery
as your lines ran deep like trenches
and your sags hung like swollen pork
Creases no iron could smooth over
Bags the size of giant's benches
The mirrors shrank in theatrical horror
and the anti wrinkle cream gave in
Caved in hollows, chasms need smoothing

So I ordered you to have plastic surgery
and I didn't think your face would be oozing
Stitched and black eyed like a boxer loser
punched over by a black hearted bruiser
Steak faced bandaged needled freak
with the name of your surgeon stitched on your cheek

He gave you three noses and six mouths
and a bread basket stuck and embedded in your jowls
Thinned skin with a swimming pool underneath
so the buried micropeople can splash about
A bone juts out like an angry teenager
all angry and boney. Your lips x 6 say different things
all mangled speech patterns and fighting words
I wish I hadn't demanded your plastic surgery
And now your face is a lie