(spoof of the famous poem by Dylan Thomas)

Do not go chill into that bangin' night,
Old tunes should burn and rave at end of day;
Bitch, bitch against the turning on of lights.

Though fuck-boys at the end think dark is nice,
Because their words had fucked no lasses they
Do not go chill into that bangin' night.

Good chads, the lass saved by, crying how shite
Their drunk deeds might have danced with no sense say,
Bitch, bitch against the turning on of lights.

Psychos who came and asked doorman to fight,
And learn, too late, they fucked up in his own way,
Do not go chill into that bangin' night.

Downers, emos, who see with neggie sight
Dull eyes could blaze for meaty-boys and be gay,
Bitch, bitch against the turning on of lights.

And you, pimp-daddy, there on 'phetted heights,
Cursed, blessed, now with your face-chewing and play.
Do not go chill into that bangin' night.
Bitch, bitch against the turning on of lights.