Alchemisland

Corn is grain and grain is corn, I see all this shit before

Walk into the room, sharp bleach smell

My mind backwards train paints the bloodstains

I feel directly the pain, ancient and recent suffering

I am the prince of sharp swords, Irish male Buffy.

Cringe when Angel do this Irish accent

Never drank below the arch in the rain

Never spent last fiver on Coldstream gin

With Charcoal Grill on the brain.