Alchemisland

Business over the pond, travelling Paddy

Dodging the James Bond apparatus, no illuminati

Cap with a wide peak, air quality is nasty

Everything is so fucking old, graceful plasterworks masking black mould

Rancid flesh cloaking a golden, holy soul, opposite that here though

From West Brom to Devon, man alive this malevolent energy

More at 5, drive like I was hired for the first five after a bank heist

Changing lanes like my ride had sirens

Railing lines like a prison’s outside, lock them down tight digest the key

Can a city be a Golem?

A trafficked bird with big titties asks if I play hold’em

I don’t see no poker game

I cashed my chips and I’m fast away, big city shade

I’m from a city myself but nothing like this, it’s a granite crypt

Junkies trip their way across traffic-glaived pavestones to get their fix

Quid’s in mate, Queen and bunting out in May

Proddies like what’s on the page

In their church no statuary, no images of pagan saints, no ostentatious veneration

Thank Henry VIII, I hate this place

This whole nation, I am most hated in the nation

I still blaze one for di nation

Immediately feel elevated, elated, upwards like stuck

On elevator, my radio stuck on hateful stations

Don’t pay heed or pay them

Prices, black shuck my car goes as fast as that, slam it and I’m not shook

Even though I could slam into something and explode into flames, pay day

For my paymasters if they could make an insurance claim.