El Wick

Last night I think I spent the pin

It stranded at my finger

I think I even split the skin

Then bled like blood’s a singer


So wrapping up in science fiction

Like to flopping at a rope

I clicked the sun she flicked her pictures

We rubbed against each other’s soap


Bach called fowl swan wands

I wish he had a waltz

An ark is just an added cunt

It’s wanda writhing on her ponce


El Wick caught fire his flame found fission

You froze up at the landing

Smell of gongs’ colliding mission

Wicked acts were underhanding


What wonders can we grab at?

What is it that flaps and crawls?

My pin washed up in Ballarat

Yes that’s right you, yes you, you fucking troll!



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