Alchemisland

A pill a day doctor’s away

Been away, template studied the blade

A lot of time in the temple, fighting temptation

Drawing water from the well in the little village

Fishing, adopting foreign customs, dressing like an Asian.

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Get back to the home ground

Drowning in cash from the grow

Given a thatch by the Shogun

Potential attacks, I show gun

Suddenly they’re all love, cuddly saying lovely jubbly

When I tell them about my holiday and return to the locality

Billy Holiday how my song on a certain day

Makes them feel a certain way

Hanging windmoved, like a curtain swaying

I could have killed you, that was a courtesy KO

Buns in the oven how I tap the glass

Nice but need a dash of lemon

Lemon in my grass, it’s not lemongrass

I watch something plunge into the sea snotgreen, lemming’s ass

I stub out the fag reduced now to a filter and wobbly priapic of ash.

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Spiral is downhill, I’m on the toboggan’s top bunk for now

Hair topknotted, McGregor’s noggin, Can’t wait to see him slept in bareknuckle boxing

Wearing a grey crombie in Crumlin

Dublin’s crumbling like a landlubber when the storm hits

Close the store down when I’m picking my fits

Closing the door after checking if anyone is around

Hiding my epileptic fits, ill-befitting a Roman prince.

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Training hard for imminent action

Smacking trees black, Jiří Procházka

Drinking claret from my carafe after

Took an L, rebuilding mojo

Cotton Hill shouting Tojo

Training in the home dojo

Daimyo and doyen, both

My flow and timing rope for heavenclimbing

Clement climate, sun’s shining, golden orange derinded

My sky pirates and pilots derided by the law abiders

I’ve got masked men with glyders going airborne drive-bys on Ryanair flights

Guy from Moldova wearing a leather jacket, two stripe trackies and a black pullover

Black as a burnt turnover his soul but his turnover extols him, earns him a lot of rope

Be a million years before I go broke, light inside shining; that kinda bloke

Light it inside and it’s stinking for a week; that kinda smoke

Umbrellas inside and new shoes on the kitchen table

Throwing salt over my shoulder to send back the devil

They’re not on my level, I’m a malevolent devil driven by hell’s telling

Bank balance swelling like bubos, Athena sent me Bubo, Medusa killing blow

Before she could turn my ass to stone, my ass is stoned as per, coner.