Gospel according to Matthew
High than Macchu
Peeked you putting on the latch
Chewing the fat while we’re on the lash
Talking all kinds of bad but he doesn’t know I’m recording the chat too
Tax free, no barcodes
Sans VAT what I’ve got bagged in my tagless van
Me and Garvey smoking bifts, hating Brits like good old Argies
Plotting how to get a crown on my argent
Asks if I wanna go out, I say Sure, Gar, like he’s the sergeant
Bury my feelings deeper than Shergar, some might find that alarming
But I can’t stop it once it’s started so I put a stopper in the top
Not looking to be a martyr.
Alchemisland 
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