Wizards of the post colony
Stark raving Cynical soul willing to burn your calfs bacon If I want it it’s taken the last laugh's a gasp like your last payslip. Bathed in Jameson on the day I break these tinsel tethers Civil’s fickle simmering hate beneath his twin peacock feathers. What’s a hat without a haven? I been there, it’s barbwire beyond this cave Haven’t been sane since the ANC was Wu’d by the Chambers. Seen it all in the flames. The wind and my mood’s changing.











