Comet Face

I woke up, Peckham Rye

At half five

Boy on the ground with his pants down

What happened to him in his past life?

What happened to him in his park side

Roads were busy, buses passed by

I wonder who saw me, I was the last guy

Think it was Willem

He said I was heading in from the poolside

I hustled the cold quays 'til 5AM

But all I got was swept aside like the pesticide

In your vegetables, it sounds like

Like the worries of those

At the worst times

Like the worries of those

At the worst times

Like the worries of those

At the worst times

Like the worries of those

At the worst times

Not again, it's Peckham Rye

At half five

Boy on the ground with his pants down

What happened to him in his past life?

Spilled blood from his dome in his past time

Has it happened again? Is the skull slight?

Is the gold fine?

At least my nose ain't bent

But my brain's fryin'

Think they asked for a line

Then they offered a line

Far from some Leicester men

But I'm glad to decline

Must've triggered somethin'

Enhanced masculine

And after I squish it in

Self esteem insulin

That contorts the glows

At the worst times

That contorts the glows

At the worst times

This contorts the glows

At the worst times

It contorts the glows

At the worst times

A waste of time

A waste of time

A waste of time

A waste of time

A waste of time

A waste of time

A waste of time

A waste