Nothing changes so why do I pray
Felt betrayed when there was no Y2K.
Had my family living in a cave, emerged after week eight.
Swore we’d be saved
Well, didn’t we emerge unscathed?
Swore humanity would be punished for what it became. Still swearing.
Conspiracy board where they knew me by name, still wearing
The uniform despite
Dishonourable on the form, box beside discharge type.
Internet-based derangement’s where I place the brunt of the blame,
That and all the blunts I was flaming daily.
No planning permission but I had a divine mission to be on,
Out in the garden raising a hardy dolmen in stone splitting sun.
Alchemisland 
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