A new look?

Barclays Bank? Barclays wank, Barclays bankers need a shank, a real bad head I have to thank the arseholes left in charge! 
Old aged crones! Old age bones, old aged wrinkles casting stones, within these walls of glass and groans, with racism at large!

Arriva drivers? Arriva skivers, Arivva happy with your fivers, journeys filled with smells and mythers, it’s a hateful day today. 

Coffee shops? Coffee fops, coffee cultures made from drops, drops of culture made from crops, no caffeine hit this way. 


Sitting thinking? Sitting drinking. Sitting round as cups are clinking, with imagination shrinking, my resolve fades quick I fear.

Where to go? Where? I know. Where my soul can shine and glow, where one thought can win the show, I must soon be gone from here.

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