Alchemisland

Show you a hole the size of a six month old baby’s fist

Clean through like a train tunnel

I can look through at you

I can see it all coming

Self-inflicted, this

Flicked the safety offa my revolver

Back then had a liquid wrist

Was the badass ranger with the big ironed hip

From that record hit, from Marty’s lips

I’ve gotta keep a record of all this

My greatest hits, because I lose it when I take a hit

I used to love the way I cracked up offa that shit

Now it’s pure habit, pure addict

Everyday at it

Can’t miss making mist of that shit they grow in attics

Fanatic taking long and drastic

Bong hits until my lighter finger blisters, pops like a zit

When I slap you, one hit and that’s it

We can laugh about it sipping gin some day

But I think for now it’s best you leave here

See you again someday, any given

Sunday.