Lyrics
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 headed in through the poolside
I hustled the cold keys '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 light, then they offered a line
Fought from some worst of 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
It contorts the glows at the worst times
This contorts the glows at the worst times
It contorts the glow at the worst times (A waste of time)
Sick
Um, then, I'll be quick then
I've pinched a van off work tonight
I didn't, I didn't get an answer off you about the amp
I was seeing if I could just drop that
I don't know if your mum's in tonight or anyone
Just drop that 'round, if that's alright
![Man Alive! [Explicit]](https://lastfm.freetls.fastly.net/i/u/300x300/87a1ae8fbb5ebdd389813185390ceb40.jpg)
