Jim’ll fix it, so he has a three year old missus
Cunt like that needed a few licks and blood fissures
Airship Cid but I’m still vicious
No casual, overly officious because I’ve got a posh mistress
They’re trying to dish it out in Finglas
That place has more horse than Findus
Leviathan stock still because he’s finless
Eyes out because he was a witness
Dried out now, dope made me witless
Bright light despite a candle that’s wickless
Almost couldn’t handle the thickness
When we got down to business
Face red like she had a sickness
Snail trail on the bedsheets from her slickness, slit glistening
Smarter cunt so I’ll glibly listen to your ranting in the kitchen
Take what you’ve got then I’m ditching, fed up of bitching
Snitches get stitches, yeah, but witches are prodigious
Seers and mystery mistresses all down through history
Hidden in the mist, dancing around fires, planting posterior kisses
Anything for the riches, gasping for the jizz
Anthem for the creatures, truss me like Liz.
Alchemisland 
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