Better give me your beller, mate
Voice notes full of belters that’d make
Your granny Brenda’s teeth shake and break
No more tea cakes without a blender
My eyes are redder than the fur of a Sette
Than Santa’s sweaty sweater
Ginger like PC Bellamy, at running I’m better
Most cops’d be dead doing the beep test
I’m only a bit fitter but that’s sufficient
That last bifter really hit
Get bitters for the sour and we’ll get whiskey lit.
Alchemisland 
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