Half of the time I feel like
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The bin had to be removed because some idiot put brocken glass in it
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ruining it for everyone
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Shard and hard enough to say
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All Hell owes by the Tower
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I looked it up and even the Scarabaeus is just a fucking dung beetle
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rolling rolling rolling
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Put shards in my ball WTF you idiot!
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Not funny.
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D’you think I enjoy rolling the Big Beast’s excrement into a 1-bed for my baby?
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The sun the sun the sun, pushing the sun right across and pushing the son
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It’s’un cann I push it right (a cross) by pushing (what’s) left?
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Through the Brocken Spectre Effect, high above the clouds
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Trust me I tried, trickle trickle treat
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tickle tickle teat
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The Trickle fucking Down Effect isn’t that fucking great
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It’s non-stop dripping and my roof’s made of shit
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It’s non-stop dropping. In my position
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You’d be pretty fucking uncomfortable.
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You can stretch it, you can squeeze it, you can twist it.
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Orient all is m’
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y sense of orientation is my downfall as I’ve got no idea where I’m going what with
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that ball of poo obscuring my view.
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Downfall, Not. As I’ve never been to the top, hat trick fucking cheek that, slap
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£666 for a family my size
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London had to be removed because some idiot put brocken glass onto the Southbank.
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S’hard rain it in, said the jury.
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Hyper fluid capitalism will drop from the panels above you
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Verdict: Putty the windows in you idiot.
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You can even break it
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And out of the dirt we’ll rise again!
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The bin had to be removed, remember.