by Nick Gisburne
In a future with nowhere to hide
With the mechanoids marching outside
Hear the minister preach
With his digital speech
“Do you take this machine as your bride?”
There’s a laser sight trained on my head
If I say the wrong thing I’ll be dead
These are dangerous days
But I steady my gaze
“I need toilet rolls, coffee and bread”
He is master of all he surveys
His are dark and mysterious ways
Soulless eyes, cold and blank
But he works in a bank
So the bondage gear may be a phase
Bolting bank robbers quickly discuss
How to flee with the minimum fuss
There’s no getaway car
And the walk is too far
So they’re waiting outside for a bus
Lo! The Orb of Primordial Power!
From its heart a great evil will flower
Those who use this device
Pay a terrible price
But for you I’ll do cash, by the hour
She is building a tomb in the garden
And she waits for the concrete to harden
The original plan
Was to cherish her man
But he farted and wouldn’t say pardon
There’s a unicorn stuck on my roof
And it’s phoning for help with its hoof
It’s a strange SOS
For a beast in distress
And it’s sending a selfie as proof
In a shower of shimmering lights
She descends from the heavenly heights
So angelic, so pure
Such a dazzling allure
But there’s quite a big hole in her tights
Though your beauty may falter and fade
Tread the pathways of life unafraid
Signs of age become clear
But there’s nothing to fear
You can still sue the surgeon you paid
Well I could not believe my good luck
When she told me how well she could suck
Having eased it inside
She took evident pride
As she bent for a final good flushing of the drains, after successfully pumping out all the muck
