Alchemisland

Fists baled like I’m in pain, sure as fuck ain’t sane

If I see you shouting oi, like I wore belt and braces

We’re not mates, trying to hidden remain

I have a magic raiment to that end

Tinted and tainted like an illegal windowpane

Gun in each hand like VHS cover of Eraser

I’m smoking trees that’re illegal in Sweden

At demonspeed, piles of fifties, ounce an evening

Gardener how many leaves I’m raking

Turner how many pictures I’m painting

She’s a ten amazing, has heads turning

Since my pen amazing, feel gaze burning

Crave my earnings but the yearning is more urgent

Than mere material necessity, I wanna craft Yeti

Rare bars, I want to be the lions of the Serengheti

Standing up on two feet and landing heat on a man

Did ten rounds with Aslan, CS Lewis a good Irishman.