No initiate symbols or handshake ringpulls
Far from how you were raised, that finery. They want me confined, simple
Slight light as from a dying Kindle at night
Sliced her sleep-fighting face magpie pied.
Gabber on at piping-hot-mouthed gatling gun speeds
Rat on me I’ll stab you deep
Fratlike need, I’m flatlining bags of speed
I’ve got spares and weed in the inner lining
My spurs carved a curved line along her dirty lino
She said I’m seeing someone currently. Said I know.
She said I’m
I said I know.
Alchemisland 
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