As a master of the Drunken Fist
I rhyme with a deranged liver.
Trip over my words instead of my feet to fight off the dreariness of common.
I flail my thoughts rather than my arms to conjure up strength.
As a master of the Drunken Fist I rhyme with a deranged liver. Trip over my words instead of my feet to fight off the dreariness of common. I flail my thought
As a master of the Drunken Fist
I rhyme with a deranged liver.
Trip over my words instead of my feet to fight off the dreariness of common.
I flail my thoughts rather than my arms to conjure up strength.