Alchemisland

No rank and file for this defiant Ronin Samurai

I have a Roman eye, spying peacelike dust

Muttering this won’t cut the mustard

I produce my cutlass to much uttering

Leaves in the guttering

On trees, wind fluttering

All of the audience rise to leave suddenly

Oak bough is cuddly, Agape is brotherly

My lover leaves, my lover loves leaves to the knees deep

While we’re weeping for lost summer she’s leading 

Charges through the leaf piles as if they were targets

She’s in invisible armour so no one can harm her

My best mate put his hand beneath her breastplate

Swore to wear my best face, promised it was a new phase

I wouldn’t disgrace her anymore, best behaviour in this place

Showed up having drank a case, in an absolute state

Steamboats, the boat race, the chest tempo raised