Alchemisland

Rats inhabit the basement passage below the tavern

Like I just started playing a fantasy game

I got a level one blade, lockpicks and a vitality admix

Armour vests full of dents, chinks and missing links

No magical properties on my rings yet

Kept every bowl and bone in the stow hold

Turns out I can’t sell stuff I stole

Overflow of powered-up soul stones, surfeit of harvested flowers 

One lout started speaking out, dragonshouted out the pub door within an half hour

All over Europe, roll up to see

Half-erased McGregor murals

A national disgrace

It doesn’t matter if you win the race

If you’re a badass

If you’re out doing rapes

White paint over his face, his ape tat

The rest scraped away in ringlets

Can’t be seen in his own gym

Somebody take that man’s keys

You shouldn’t drive drinking gin

You shouldn’t be out so late, you’ve got kids

From whizz kid to rizzless bitter, smoking bifters

Hitting old men for not sipping your whiskey

Only thing matters is the Roly on your wrist

Get your few, quid; fuck the love, kid

Back when it kicked off, the country was out in force

When he fought and won late at night, our celebration outshone the dawn chorus

Melted Aldo with one punch, he had all the best puns

They booked five rounds, he only needed one

Like a barman told surprise me, he picked the round

The big question: what’s he like on the ground?

He kept finishing fights with lightning-quick left strikes before we could find out

He went from stripes on belts and meet Arnie, to white stripes off mirrors in Dolphin’s Barn

Man, he used be a hitter throwing one hitter quitters

When it came to his mastery of matters fistic, there were no quibbles

A fall from grace, I struggle to imagine a contemporary equivalent