Comet Face

I woke up in 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 parkside? Roads were busy, buses passed by. I wonder if he saw me as the last Guy. Think it was Willem. He said I was heading to the poolside. I hustled the cockneys to find the rent. But all I got was sweat tonight. Like a pesticide in your beds that we sleep Sometime. Like the worries and ghosts of the Worst times. Like the worries and ghosts of the Worst times. Like the worries and ghosts of the Worst times. Like the worries and ghosts of 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 tongue in his pastime. Has it happened again? Is this ghost slime? It's the gold vine. At least my nuts ain't burnt when my brain's Fried. Think they asked for a light, Then they offered a line. Went from some nice to meh, but I'm glad To decline. Hustling chilly something in hearts Masculine. And half price crisp linen, Self-esteem in Chile. Like the toys and clothes of the worst times. Like the toys and clothes of the worst times. Like the toys and worst times. Like the toys and clothes of the worst times. At least We tried. We tried. We tried. We tried. We tried. We tried. We We tried. We tried. We tried. Sick. Uh, good. I'll, be quick then. I've pinched a round off work tonight. I didn't, I didn't get an answer off you About the amp. I was seeing if I could Just drop that--I don't know if your mum's In tonight or anyone, but just drop that round If that's all right?