Tag: Third Wave

  • Squintin Quarantino – Third Coming

    Third Coming
    Can you hear the clapping, my gums flappin’
    Moronic juicy rhymes keep the songs sap in
    Religion double tappin’ state talk crappin’
    Corona virus wave, another victory lappin
    Third coming
    Crowned for Easter
    Profit from misery is a sign of the beast (er)
    Baste the turkey with Brexit, the piss, Boris teks it
    You vote for rabid dogs and Brexit you get sick
    The virus, Zuck text it, fuck facebook and hex twit
    Take you bitcoin and shove it up your arse slit
    Who work for it, masses of energy, you tit
    No wonder Elon want Bitcoin to hit the ceiling
    Lao Tzu, Hegel and Machiavelli thieving
    Layers of capital, players and neigh sayers
    No socialist agenda to help or pay us
    Third coming
    Business class ass still got a thumb in
    Free ride capital, greedy market slummin’
    Mean motherfuckers own the means to living
    And I keep moaning, remaining, reframing
    Hot under the tongue, breath aiming flaming
    Wildfires
    From coast to coast
    Dumbos spread the virus like its jam on toast
    And my petty rhymes don’t even begin to roast
    Most the guests at the park who insult the host
    The planet’s not ours to save
    Greed stings like aftershave
    A curse on plague DJs who play the plague rave
    Greeting the third wave, go live in your cave
    Third coming
    In the air tonight like a song
    And I’m using a dolphin as a wake-shift bong
    You can thank Boris Trump Putin and Ping
    For the super spread of capital mutations this spring
    There’s a way out, forward, just look
    For the mutualist syndicalist anarchist book
    It may take a while, more destruction and bile
    We must crawl mile after mile after mile
    Eat that third shit sandwich and smile
    I know, my once tasty raps may seem vile
    Some raps snap like a crocodile
    Some traverse the Ganjes and Nile
    I’ve mysteries and manuals on file
    Spit a botticelli mosaic on your floor tile
    Suck satan off kitchen foil
    Cook up spies until they ready boiled
    Memories well oiled
    Serpent’s tooth and tail coiled
    Bed and pants soiled
    Poems loyal, dialed, dyed and royal real
    A bargain bop bonanza, a steel
    A wing on the third rail, another on the wheel
    Third coming
    Yower’ all-grow-ridim can’t latch me
    This patch is quilted with hatched ste
    Setting head fires with match key
    Game set seal, Adamski
    Born inwards Lee
    Burrows down to Gordon Brown’s downfall
    Gordon Bennet wrote it, I just float a bit
    Encircle, we mote it bee line for bass face distance sting
    Third Coming
    Ouch, like a corkwynder to our chops
    Like people without masks buying bog roll in shops
    Britain top of the pops
    But the band eating slops
    The Queen still banking and reaping our crops
    My flipper it flops, the bit penny drops
    From heaven or hell, or Giza cheops
    Capitals zit pops, death toll hit tops
    Exceptionally sexless brexit means worse off
    Oh well, so let’s make a mockery
    Come see my garden pond, deck chairs and rockery
    I fancy pigeons in my flockery
    Writs sound odd like socks, hurry
    In a global pandemic I’m sick like McFlurry
    Furry like mink
    Stinky like skunk
    Tuned up on Sun Ra and Thelonious Monk
    Third coming
    Like a trilogy
    We say three and in dutch it’s drie
    Wonton soup and cantaloupe with brie
    That predictive techx cunht catch flea
    Mimic my octopus, high me, fly me
    Word coming back from the grave
    Forgiveness, NHS not Jesus saves
    Eton enclaves and PPE chums
    Suck up resources and steal the last crumbs
    Tory Brexit death march to distant drums
    Oh diddums, it’s only a life
    Only a son, daughter, mother, father, husband or wife   
    Put down the knife, pick up the pen
    Write it out kids, let us begin
    Hideous crimes by this lying gangerino
    Pale when compared with Squintin Quarantino