BRICs (Remove filter)
Cheeky Chap
Never mind the wounded,
Never mind the dead;
Shake hands with the cheeky chap
And pat his shiny head.
Never mind the blood
That’s dripping from his hands;
Kneel right down and grovel
In front of where he stands.
The cheeky chap is on a roll;
The BRICs are dancing to his tune.
A warrant waits for his arrest,
But might as well be on the moon:
For t...
Thursday 24th October 2024 7:12 am
Recent Comments
Graham Sherwood on I Hear Nothing
3 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Stoic Man
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Mothers of Sons (Twenty years wasted to abandonment)
6 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on The Westgate Run (Re-run) [song version]
6 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on A Knight's Resilience
6 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I CAN'T CARE FUCKING LESS
7 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on "Forged in Fire, Taught in Halls"
8 hours ago
Sourajit Nandi on "Forged in Fire, Taught in Halls"
14 hours ago
Holden Moncrieff on Rosary.
20 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on Are The Angels Watching Over Me Tonight
20 hours ago