Alchemisland

I never run out of stamina

I rip flesh, Legend of Shamana

Sorry I left semen in your mama

We had a dirty semana 

She ate me like a piranha 

I honoured her, only slothfully 

Honestly for fifty five she’s some moth

Nice, clean slot like casino just got mopped

If he gets caught 

Your mates will be saying guess what

Did you hear who got shot?

I warned him, stay away from that gear

And that guy, or you’ll get got

Has anyone told his moth?

Yeah I did, pretty little thing 

She laughed pitilessly, let it linger

She’s the one who put out the hit

Wanted him popped like a prom day zit

I wait for him to leave the chipper 

Or leaving a pub jacks, upping his zipper 

Hop out the liver-coloured bimmer

He dies by my hand 

He dives but my hit lands despite 

A smiting blow from my zweihander

Making rent selling fent

Often drinking cough medicine 

Observing passing mothmen

Pass the plate

Lay it on until I’m happy

Slap it on, mound the food 

Whole menu coming, why choose 

White shoes meaning tonight 

You’re alright, no fear of sniping 

Even if I sight you, not with the wife in view

Up late like he had a date with an eclipse 

I’m up later, late late with Gay Byrne

Now there’s a pagan who could take one; 

I blaze one for the nation.