Alchemisland

I’ll smoke fifty fags and still kick your ass Huffing, outta gas and still surpassing All you gasbag slags, I can still hang Even though I’ve gone to the dogs Move smooth, tight combos, boxing Like a pro outside the shops on Sackville Row I hit a tramp a slap that slumps him He was…

Smoked hay, now waving mist away An extensive and expensive inquest Into the matter of my betrayal I find myself arraigned, an old place’s almost-sole claimant. In its silent gallery, the solemn portrait of the grave man In his plain but delicately arranged raiment Upon which the graceful saints were quaintly traced; Their faces looking…

Sleep in sneaks in case of raids Might need to slip away  90 down a fire escape  Hercules as a muscular baby parading two snakes.

Eat her out  Then eat her out of house of home  Don’t disturb my turban  Can’t disrupt the rapture Can’t interrupt what’s happening Flashes fiery, of lasso lightning Cops knocking like Jacob Marlay’s  Festive apparition  Change me, replace me Rape me beyond facefinding Grow to beard to escape AI  Scraping away all traces  Sweet me,…