Alchemisland

Pimp my cardiac, card chopping yak

Simps taking cabs we’re doing Simpson skin pills in a killer Jag

Colour of a stomped bloodbag

No crumple zones watch how the car reacts

Nothing left to tow

Look like you got five swift ones with an axe

James Dean rebel with a tagged toe

Tagged as need to know

Make sure no one follows you where you’re going

Growth and motion like Timmy C from House Atreides

Atrophied off three of these electric Es, tonight no Zs 

A-rated, BRB in the jacks cleaning no Mr Sheen

One drag off my saggy blunt

Have you planking in the manky piss staring at the ceiling

Oscar Wilde was right that some of us are in the gutter

Six cider cans and I’m steaming

When I get this I’m like a demon

Pacing the lanes with a cleaver, I like mangy beaver

Irish clearly her name’s Caoimhe

She’s seen more than a window cleaner

No throwing up after five leans

She’s clearly seasoned enough to roll with me

I let her roll up the spliffs we’re chiefing

And decorate the keys for Christmas season

Skinwise three by three

Sitting on my knee smoking trees 

Walls full of tapestries

And armours made redundant by cannon, place’s medieval

Best lore in my canon

Best drawer and big raws in my drawn-up Canada

Tip tapping typing out my evil screeds

Trying to accrue readers for my tearful tales of hawking and misdeeds

Gearful streets it’s all available

Seeking the fiend equivalent of a whale.