Alchemisland

I keep my hip flask filled ever since my glass slipper task failed

I keep my output filthy like glass ashtrays in the 1950s

When everyone died at fifty yellow livered and tipsy

Selling gas, selling grass, so I take trains all over the place

That’s my trade, get high grade to the right place

Where it can be flamed by kids as young as eight

Is it OK? Not my place to say, Homer’s blameless

Train delay that’s lame, station feels like a jail

Strange, liminal feeling seeing the trainless lanes

Painless, instantaneous death I could claim hopping those railings

I don’t let such thoughts pale me, I don’t let them compel me

I’ve got a place in Hell but while I’m here I’ve drugs to sell

Debts to settle, heads to melt, mettle to test, sinners to pelt

Buy a glass of freshly squeezed OJ as a head settler

My hair once dark brown gone salt and pepper

Colour drained from the petals

Bite down hard on the pedals, even though I should know better

The drugs I peddle are expensive but you won’t find better

In a bind, in a pickle, if you fall into debt

I’ll be around to collect, his mother wept

Like he was dead, all I did was cave in his head

Other times a dunking does, it all depends on what he’s done

And how much of the drugs he’s blown

If the lot is gone, then his car explodes

Sometimes his missus will offer to take my load 

No offence, love, but you look like a toad

I move fast and they move slow, sloths three toed

Veteran on my third tour of the slots, payouts coming lots

My blooming blueflower wilting

I can’t ever truly lose my power, it’s a will thing

Snort them up so my eyes water, pill sting.