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 ba** 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.