Head spinning like a car ‘round bends
I can’t feel like fifteen Nurofen
On the door a mean old sort
Take a skinny ass for sport
My head goes back like a xenomorph
Catapult neck then he hits the floor.
I’ve had five E’s I’m trying to blink it out
Got ID, pal? He tugs me out, pig short a snout
Stout, five foot six thereabouts
Punched his head around
I had control he hit the ground, didn’t see Major Tom around.
Freed knuckles dust you
Knees buckled you’re contused
Deeds done that DC didn’t
No survivors when I’m the villain
Chilling but like a fridge after too much pilling
Jaw worn out with grinding, my keepers finding me a handful
Head inside sounds like grindcore played on a rusty anvil
It’s a coin flip that decides it, Dundrum Mental Home and the Anneville
Residence share a garden and more than a few residents
Anyhow, I feel smack-full like a junkie in the lane before The Sackville
My smacks dull any senses, settings off stun are set to max impactful.
No AC in IE most days it’s icy, I’ve had more sups than Dicey the bottlesucker
I’m fairer than Darby, a skiver since I skived free of the fruit tree, full time little fucker
Ah me aul flower, don’t old flowers wilt, ah me aul mucker, you have me drink spilt
My vision has folds like a wrinkled quilt, high up above it like Gath’s lankiest on stilts
If you’re astral projecting over Dublin prepare to watch junkies injecting
Tiger got anesthetized, now it’s another decade-long recession
Everything is bought and paid for, see more greased traps than a safety inspector.
Alchemisland 
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