teach me justice and you can
teach me everything else...
otherwise **** off back to Sinbad territory;
teach me justice, show me justice
and you can take your little bumper
stickers to Greenland to build a
mosque for Guinness's book of
records... stop faking this ****
behind post-colonialism looking
Parisian mascara pretty... don't bother...
by being "racist" i'm also taking
the **** from your former colonial masters...
which you ended up ******* up to...
this is Europe... your mothers ******
and your fathers castrated has no place
among us... walk the French mile
of a Riviera and then tell me what's packed
and what's **** and what's called the Assad kebab;
**** - you ******* hear the vermin talk?
or you a bit deaf? oh, a dog with its tail
lodged between its hind-legs...
clearly you were always going to be an I.R.A.
assassin. like my father on a construction-site...
i'm asking you, yes, you, Paddy...
you downing a pint of concrete to get you
off your lazy Shamrock *** while downing
a pint of St. Guinness?
or do you want a donkey's kick up your ***
to take photographs on a cruise ship?
i take it the English were too strong to criticise,
so you picked on the other migrants,
the ones in line with the dog fights in the R.A.F.,
you know, you can really bake a birthday cake
feeding the Welsh cat food with their specialist
subject of sharpened parabola (V).
hey! you said it... vermin plucked your eyes
from their sockets as if a spring bouquet of flowers.
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 11:39 PM UTC
teach me justice and you can
teach me everything else...
otherwise **** off back to Sinbad territory;
teach me justice, show me justice
and you can take your little bumper
stickers to Greenland to build a
mosque for Guinness's book of
records... stop faking this ****
behind post-colonialism looking
Parisian mascara pretty... don't bother...
by being "racist" i'm also taking
the **** from your former colonial masters...
which you ended up ******* up to...
this is Europe... your mothers ******
and your fathers castrated has no place
among us... walk the French mile
of a Riviera and then tell me what's packed
and what's **** and what's called the Assad kebab;
**** - you ******* hear the vermin talk?
or you a bit deaf? oh, a dog with its tail
lodged between its hind-legs...
clearly you were always going to be an I.R.A.
assassin. like my father on a construction-site...
i'm asking you, yes, you, Paddy...
you downing a pint of concrete to get you
off your lazy Shamrock *** while downing
a pint of St. Guinness?
or do you want a donkey's kick up your ***
to take photographs on a cruise ship?
i take it the English were too strong to criticise,
so you picked on the other migrants,
the ones in line with the dog fights in the R.A.F.,
you know, you can really bake a birthday cake
feeding the Welsh cat food with their specialist
subject of sharpened parabola (V).
hey! you said it... vermin plucked your eyes
from their sockets as if a spring bouquet of flowers.
by