I don't want to go back anymore.

I don't wanna go to work in the rain.

No more toast grilled on the heater.

No more of that a&r girl.

And having to meet her.

My personage

It writes everywhere [in race anywhere]



You pep!



And i stick my parker pen under my ear

Beneath my own carefully scruffed hair.

What i wear

Have to check out of moody's lair

Hang on



Hang on, leaves your bad house with me

Into the room of the bass player.

Why won't you go up stairs?

You pep!



Don't think he's don't get in slippy

North-old-hamptonshire.

I believe there's a new drug out.

It's called speed i wrote a song about it

Conceptually a la bowie.

But it's been lost in the vaults of the record company

By our manager



So instead our new 45 is 'girlies'

[eckides] on, brown tonguer

Yours, brattingly.

Everyone says "please"

Anyway is a waste of life

Wait to say it in lancashire

You pep!



You had the best summer

And now it's wearing off.

No more excuses

For your traitorism.


more