Contact Play - Confessions of a Wasteman lyrics

[Contact Play - Confessions of a Wasteman lyrics]

I confess I'm a mess and I couldn't care less
With my bare debts, stress
In a shit stained vest
Stay fresh, dribble on my piss-brain best
On a six day bender and which way next?
Take steps to breakneck pace of a wasteman
And best to mess with a credit card pay plan
Best assess my receptors debt
Check the wretched stench of my septic breath
Blows so far with my hobo style
Orchestral and polo, low profile
And this stoned broke smile
For disgusting commuters
Watching me spew red puss with the mucus

This is best luck from the crusty and useless
Losers, never win, worse than it's ever been
Working this earth for a burst of adrenaline
Worst of the seven sins, sinful as Simon
Twinging as bright as a twinkling diamond
Glint in my eyes, I'm as pissed as a pieman


Fistfuls of crystals from Bristol to Brighton

Yeah, man
If I ever see the end of this messy week
I'll be spending three
Just collecting these memories up straight
One great heavenly drug haze
I guess they'll get the best of me some day
Remember me, fuck face?
Come waste your energy, blood drains
Skunk weighs heavier than
Deafening drum breaks up late
Are you still considering the colour red?
Sinking the stubble on your chin
To your lovers neck?
Why's that? A fine yat to another ex
Fly traps, high rise standards
An other stress
It's the time lapse, loving it to some extent
Nothing left of the summer
Wonder where the fuck it went
None the less dunce, I recover fresh faced
Next day wrecked like freights
On express ways
Flailing with dead weight and dead lines
Dead guys wait for the next life
Gaze in the head lights

Contraband clogs up my nostril span
So what's the plan?
Cotch til this sombre jam is done
Clocks with hands that spun
Songs for standard cunts
Gone like Saxon monks
Yeah ain't that a past time?
Part time bar fly barfing my last pint
Laugh, cry, til your lips and your eyes bleed
Spit with a pint and a
Spliff full of pipe dreams

Pickle-pickle brain prick, Mr fickle as fate
Inner space day tripper in a blizzard of K
Inner states stay sickening as
Piss in the face with a tin of Ace
Listen it's the wizard of waste
And lizards and snakes all play
In my flickering flame
Shitty mistakes are made on a typical day
Cynical mates are made and some
Sit in and wait
Trying to take all the bullshit
And strip it away and isn't it strange? Nah
It's me in the dribbling rain
Plan B til I'm simple and plain
Feed on the shit in my veins, a match freak
I speak til I'm king of this wasted slag heap
Stampede on your sand beaches
Like damn leeches
Cheaper than bland features
And canned peaches
So thank Jesus for these rank geezers
I catch as my hand seizures with amnesia

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