Alchemisland

Come over for cream tea and gash

Cleaning pipe needing, know you have apt tools in your crap van

She’s wearing a blue caftan with a crap Chartbusters tan

Damp yoke absolutely I’m tapping that but topping off with two yokes

Payload jumping off the top rope, she fetches me a robe

She retches when I probe the throat but keeps going

Pills I’ve got loads and she’s stowing four, that many loads

Floating in her digestive tract, back slapped red like missed playing red ass

Full of scratches, leave a geocache up her gash for your da to find when they’re next humping

Bumping uglies tumbling like a load in the dryer, hardest man call Danny Dyer, close to dying

She’s sixty five, still fine, tits fire, reclined with only eyewhites, I’m seeing visions of Aiwass

Off the bypass, wide-eyed as we drive past, outside the empty gaff, seeing shadows pass

The windows, shafts of source light glinting malignantly through the dimmer blinds

In line to get blinded, falling in line, praying for position in the fourth reich

I kick off a Hun’s helmet make him sit on the spike, Torquemada’s mind

How I divine new ways for people to die horribly

Menacing eye cast I at a far right guy soon to die

Lucky I’m a family guy, take only one eye and half his smile

Something to remember me by, not so serious all the time.