The Denis Slade Objective.

The last tortured love's labour lost,

cost the best and the brightest

normal boy his freedom.

Fall away, the water brings poison

the sky littered with cancer

the rain, fire like, fuck you Santa

where's my red bike.

He said "no go," the guy next door.

Take your bike and

your leftist dyke.

Take all your tortured, buggered types.

Take 'em all and

take to flight and make sure

your dick hangs to the right.

But if it itches,

you know it's your fault,

cos' those Long Gully bitches

and their inbred sisters,

just for a glass of beer

she'll suck your bolt.

Amen, by God!

Amen to that.

Thank the lord for the Charlenes and the Darlenes

and the Cheryls and all their Energetic kin.

Grab 'em, get 'em, hug 'em, love 'em

take 'em in, take 'em in

and live a life if sin.

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In collaboration with Brother Stumblefun and Brother Weirdlittleman.

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