A four-path trimming doused in velvet flakes Local lads City lights  Smooth Jazz and pina coladas with a hint of peppermint

A father I call not my own  A mother I fear not my home  A friend, where art doubt A system, I disown

Judas lip licking  Shaman swayed to craft  A canvas  Paint, my jigga

We know not what we say  To a few who know not what to make  A Parliament ruling  A three-digit code  Minus the one