Alchemisland

It fire off a trinity, skidding across the bar still brrrrrrring

Again, back to that no smoking sign

We’re at blazing time, demon time

No abidance, no guidance except divine

Never go when it’s my time, no bedtime

Retiring at half two, rising at half five

No wonder I’m tired all the time

If I could, unsafe for me to drive

Can’t concentrate, permanently high on shrubs

The Garda would have a field day, if they could

Fields of swaying hay totally natural not sprayed

Hazy for those halcyon days and dazes, daisy chains

In the field getting blazed on J’s, slagging my mates

In the era where the wallet came with the chain

When the tee with longsleeve beneath proclaimed

I’m the sort of person who likes music, OK?

Limmy looking increasing like the Radiohead singer

Do you have to, do you have to, do you have let it linger

I’m not trying to linger long but I’m fastened, trapped like a rat

Like a fat rat trapped in the wall hole waiting for a tomcat’s wrath

Tom and Jerry haven’t a patch, still got stitches and bandages on my ass

Three cats eighteen lives between, Egyptian queen offering them gifts.