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

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Archie Marshall, Jimmy McCracklin, Lowell Fulsom