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