Count to Ten with Nobody

Down below the concrete You know, you know, you know The Whitechapel fatberg, yes it had a heartbeat The bulk built by something unnatural Heap of greasy pain Souls released remain Mary, Anne, and Liz – just some of their names Count to ten in the dreaming A sense of haunted landmarks Sprawls below the land dark Awful thing to witness Screams unfinished business I lost myself for days Crawling round down there Liminal space Caught between the night Throw myself to the fire Got me feeling like the powder plot got in my eye Aye aye aye Got me feeling like the powder plot got in my eye Tell me when the storm breaks You know, you know, you know And lets loose the rain ‘til I drown like a cornflake The pigswill of this city Flush them down the drain I’ll rush down there too Kiss that greasy goo Give each girl a rose Swallow their white gold Won’t someone fetch a plunger A memory undissolved I smell something pungent Murder unresolved I lost myself for days… Down below the concrete The Whitechapel fatberg, yes it held a heartbeat I can feel what you feel I smell something pungent Someone fetch a plunger There has been a murder