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