hard up (Buffering 87% Completed)

HARD UP (Buffering 87% Completed)

The bastard that is time denied me the pantomime three wishes -
y'know, the pre-firing squad everlasting cigarette,
the refilling bottle of booze, first loved in an olden times Irish joke,
and, predictably, on occasion my fraudulant cyber flirtations made blind flesh
But that fatherless creation, with whom I took out an absurd pension scheme, had sold me a pup
Nullifying the joy I attained with my uncut fingernails and undeleted search history
Goading me out to replenish fags, booze, Ready Brek and spaghetti hoops
Forcing me, a simple masturbator, a man that just wants to keep himself to himself,
to front up to store folk and all those stupid pedestrians, cyclists and drivers
Hey, but nonetheless, there is no going back, no time of days,
You can stick your fresh air, your conversations, your job seekers allowance
Y'know, some people will do anything for money -
Weigh up mules injected with sulphur, invent a new head for easy reading,
present their tongues layered with the sperm of a stranger, predicting the death of imagination
Well, I know, not everything that is incredible is untrue
They can kill glee but 'tis all here,
like the memory of an earlier lapful of spilt peas, in pornographic detail, quite lierally
And once in a blue moon as I look away and snatch a slice of theft worthy wisdom
I regret not the nugatory nourishment my neighbours offer their own blood
I have felt what you know but have long since retired from the competition
but, somewhere along the way I read the first of the next two sentences
Take away leisure and cupid's bow is broken
So once more, as my nicotine breath awaits my ashes, pure rust breaks and bursts