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 bass 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.
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