Alchemisland

Thugs, thieves, truth twisters

Triers, tyrants, troopers who’d sooner fuck your sister

Than tag you in to dance to the music

Seeing two of it like Use Your Illusion

Ecstasy chew, my face like a rusk for a babe

Pave making homeways

Now you’re in a vanback getting beaten blue and black

Four lads in black tracksuits with heads you don’t ask two

Times, all not new to trial

Did time, came out viler and more cruel

Drooling at this opportunity to utterly ruin a human, fiduciary duty

Attacking you with the heaviest duty hammers

Effusively, by my command

Music on, loud black metal bands, to drown out screams

The tracks suit

A drag but the best tracksuit’s blood spattered

I’m wearing a baggy Bugsy Malone suit, looks badass

Turn you to powder because you proved a howler

Works too profound for a spanner to slow down.