Alchemisland

It wasn’t up to me, if it pleases you to hear it

Cleaving this near Navidad

Things can’t be brought to heel but, trust me, it’ll heal

Bluer than the Na’vi, lad

How about this: ten blues for the four price? That’s a steal.

Driving around the estate

I navigate the craft from the back seat’s safety

Driving eight year old haters

Around the bend by playing loud tunes after eight

She said no tears like the bottle of Matey

But she’s been crying all day trying to reach me

Cheersing the boys, having made good my escape

Closest of my close scrapes

Most cats harbour nine lives

Got thirty eight like an aged wine

Also got my fateful 38 in waiting.