Chicken satay back,
Melting middle, piney tum,
Keep it tight, but leave it slack,
Wrap the noose around your thumb.

Weather party in my hat,
Can’t contain her lightning eyes,
Hang around, but keep it flat,
Dig your grave with Sunday lies.

I can’t remember all this crap,
Then write it down you crazy brave,
Lightly tickle, here’s a slap,
It’s the story of the rising of the slave.