Alchemisland

Loathing the rabble

Holding my lucky rabbits foot praying for the final battle

Judgement time for all you cattle

Bile in my pen, I rattle off ravishments, defaming

Detailing painstakingly your every mistake and weakness

I’m the last bitter bard working hard to produce satires

My entire catalogue devoted to exposing what you are

Comhrá with me intelligence gathering mission

My reducing missives night igniting invite critical condition

I’m at the mead hall door exporting your dirty drawers

Every dart I throw hits you, never missing Slaughtered Lamb fixture

Cruel pictures my word palette inflicted, said what size your dick is

Mentioned that to which you’re addicted

Gifted, my twisted limericks like a lubeless ass fisting

Pippin to Kissin how many rings you’re lipsing

No lip sync, just straight bombs and shipsink

Cold and smooth, you thought I was an ice rink doing my damage

Call me an Irish prick, last time you’ll think like that, bandit

It’s banned for being too heavy handed but sometimes to stick the landing

You have to graze the mountain, you face my mountain, I blaze by a fountain

Whose waters draw from the hippocrene , your wife looks like the hippo queen

I’m in the tower of london because in my rage’s outflooding I punched the queen