Lyric He Pep!

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.