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Space Raiders

Cloudy swill burning a hole in my stomcach From too many pints and laxative cigarettes I need bulk to kevel my insides As I sigh upon realizing they've run out of pork pies What crisps have you got? I drunkenly enquire As my buts groan Like a death metal choir There's deep fried cajun squirrel Flame grilled possum with ginger spice I'd be happy with ready salted Rather than Dorset cream and fusions of rice What happened to salt and vinegar? These new concoctions blag me head Is it too much to ask for a bag of space raiders instead? Culinary fusions for three quid a bag When all I want is a little snack Nothing fancy, nothing debonair Twenty percent crisp/ eighty percent air Peaking duck with hoisin sauce is too much for me I want something simple but I'm accused of been too fussy Sautered donkey and deli sensations Make me feel sick As i consider popping to the offy For some frazzles or chipsticks These new fangled delicacies Can't appetize my needs I'm a simple man with wimple taste Can I just have a bag of space raiders please?
Space Raiders

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