Gospel in a sports almanac
Cover leather, tethered to the lectern
Gloves black as Barrack at election
Saying yes we can, he meant drone attacks
Yeah, we tortured some folks
Poured water down throats
Been bad, been at it
Had to get Bin Laden
Give them spectacle, give them drama
Draw their eyes like a moth to a lantern
Wyrming their way out of questions, Lambton.
Book of Babe Ruth
Ruthless about the truth
Bit long in the tooth
Too long out the boots
Sky it to the car park
Still the autarch of the ballpark.
Alchemisland 
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