I would twist and twirl and tug
The noumenon of thee;
For I have hidden ‘neath the rug,
A vial of Q.R.V.
I would twist and twirl and tug
The noumenon of thee;
For I have hidden ‘neath the rug,
A vial of Q.R.V.
Beware her ties and starry eyes
Keep hands upon your knees;
For with a grin, she’ll serve you gin
Enhanced with Q.R.V.
Should one hope to escape the cityscape
Where the air is thick as thieves
In this hazy state, simply suffocate
By inhaling Q.R.V.
I can surmise all of the lies
He transposes veritably
Old acquaintance should be forgot
On the eve of Q.R.V.
Brush aside the nettles, you’ll find periwinkle petals
Spring delights in making mischief with thee
For the force inside the stem of a faerie diadem
Is the truest source of Q.R.V.
How unfortunate for me
You were, and are, may always be
My Northern Sky and Prussian Sea
My cure, my poison
My Q.R.V.
Jupiter’s shining, Mercury’s rising
The Sun is soaking me
In his golden haze, I could die for days
Sipping dregs of Q.R.V.
Laconic & Gin, he serves with a grin,
His favourite apéritif
Spirit: future-proof, 99% beauf
I’d rather gulp Q.R.V.
A watery grave makes a home for the brave
Who take such liberty
Of gulping in rife to an inch of their life
A draught of Q.R.V.