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…ith lust! Though all be vain, Theres hope for us, the lion-limbed, In hashish and cocaine. Though death should hale us by the scruff Of neck tos mouldy portal, To-night let us get drunk enough To know we are immortal!
… night? If I havent a house on the Grand Parade, Ill build me a hut of wattle. The corkscrew seems to have got mislaid? Then smash the neck of the bottle! Courage and will and a whack will aid, Though the corkscrew seem to have got mislaid. Anatomists say that a single wing Isnt much for a bird to fly on. Theres not much ginger about the spring Of the fiercest one-legged lion. Another bottles the obvious thing To get the ginger into our spring. Beloved brethren, listen to me! If theres one truth of divinity Clear, its the virtue there is…
…gible wrought to things less conceivable yet. It may be. Little I reckbut, assume the existence of earth, Am I born to be hanged by the neck, a curse from the hour of my birth? Am I born to abolish mans guilt? His horrible heritage, awe? Or a seed in his wantonness spilt by a jester? I care not a straw, For I understand Do what thou wilt; and that is the whole of the Law.