Girl, you got a fine immune system,

I ain’t seen MHC’s like that on nobody

nohow not in these United States

of droopy antigens and people who want to

give out awards for basically nothing.


Your immune system is like “nuh-uh”

ain’t having none of that shit, working

is living, you bristle even at the term

“Helper T”, like what, these cells can’t do

it on their own, they ain’t need help,

they’re one big toxic brotherhood.


Girl, it’s just fuckin incredible, I got

your graft vs. host real bad, them are

some fine motherfuckin cells you got,

this is love, this is music, a cytokine

Quiet Storm on midnight city radio.


Girl, I wanna make babies with you

but I can’t, your cells wouldn’t have it,

they’d eat the little scamp alive before

he even had a chance, like they eat

everything, like they’re eating me right

now, replacing my marrow with aplomb,

laying down flags to claim all the territory

in my brittle bones for your mother country.