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OCD

All my furniture and footwear is covered in plastic
It’s the only way to stop the spread of diseases
Before I leave for work I’ve got to clean all the carpets
But I don’t trust the Hoover, I use tweezers

Before I can sit down to watch Midsomer Murders
The TV must be adjusted to the perfect angle
And when I want to leave the room I can’t open the door
Until I’ve made sure I’ve disinfected the handle

I must take a shower at least every hour
Perspiration makes me feel evil and bad
I don’t consider my genitals to be clean
Unless they’ve been buffed by a Brillo pad

Something very bad will happen
If I don’t sterilise my kettle
Something very bad will happen
If I don’t touch that piece of metal

I’ve got OCD, It’s consuming me
I’ve washed my hands more times than Lady Macbeth
I’ve got OCD, It’s controlling me
An unaligned placemat is a portent of death

Must polish skirting board
Must open and shut fridge
Must... run... finger... along... underside... of... ridge

Hygiene is hybrid of science and superstition
A way of life for those of a certain disposition
A religion, like all others, based on ritual and submission
And deep fear of every form of bodily emission

God spoke to me once and gave me a mission
"Clean the kitchen! Do the dishes!" so said the apparition
Thanks a lot, God, next time I won’t even listen
Cos you’ve given me a debilitating medical condition

Order! Chaos!
Order! Chaos!
Order! Chaos!
Order! Chaos! Order! Chaos! Order! Chaos!
Order! Chaos! Order! Chaos! Order! Chaos! Order Chaos!
Chaos! Order.




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