Tag: fortune
-
tepid
Your style tepid, crude, unfit for the throne My style rude lines writ upon a bone God’s name sounds like a gurgled groan My fortune teller a blind crone Two hundred years living alone Ask her to tell me where I’m going She reads my palm, turns pale as foam Sends me away, won’t take…
-
Ninth Hour in Paddy Power
Still in with a chance, each way bet slip billowing in the wind whipping the bookie smoking area where a junkie is chilling Full of jellies you can tell and smell a pill head The race has started I hear tramping cavalry charging in Bet is a sure thing, your man said Gives good tips…
Alchemisland 