Oh, Drinky, Drinky, lay a little egg for me.
Of petered white yolk from a duck's feathered rear.
Do you hear me, oh Drinky, oh Drink, oh, Drinky, Drinkypoo?
Has the league table foretold the tale of your demise?
When Brandon Rodgers looked into your skinny brown eyes
And said "oh son, what have you done?
You've curshed the monk and now the nun?
And all you seem to do is run?
Away from fun, away from FUN?!
While men around you all have begun
To eat still-born fetuses in sesame-seed buns.
Still-born. Still born. Still born. still bORn steel BRON
It's over, Drinky, Drinkypoo.
Let it go
let it go
Like orgnised religion (ooohhh hipsterish biting satire)(oooohhh hipsterish biting self reference),
Like your bowel just before the push
Like your jelly green crush.