Isleham Swamp

Meet me at the swamp, round the back of the gas works in Isleham
I'll be sat with a fat bird, reclining
I'll be sitting there, six yards, sophisticated prison stare
Missing hair, spinning in my little shitty swivel chair
Counting lizards with a pig as if I didn't care
How does he get away with talking shit like this it isn't fair
Simply isn't, yeah
You need to listen, where
Over there with all the victims and opinions, fair
Guest list, why
You look a bit depressed bitch
Hold my stack of lizards while I cellotape this death wish
Decorate the sass pit, celebrate with ten quid
Spend it on a rainy day on anything I'm friends with
Friends trip and get a bitch in the check quick
And act as if it wasn't represented with death, shit
It's never pressure, I'll be there when the wrench splits
With everything you never left, kept in a shed, quick

Meet you at the spot that seems to exist in deep memory
Bring a pen to me and everything you're tellin' me
I know I speak it so easily and cleverly
But please, your dream catcher doesn't need to be the death, you see
At least capture your beliefs and head steadily
Forgettin', keep remembering, intelligence is never free
Don't let that bitch ever question your integrity
I wanna say your name, but I don't wanna be your enemy

She pens a question in my head and in my head it seems
She's just another desperate thief
Please, I keep it blessed for my team
If you have to ask the question at the start, I guess you'll never see
What's the point in tryna pick apart a lever scene?
You can't change a spitting heart and get a settled dream
Let it breathe is my message to most
And I ain't tryna get dismissive, be possessive and boast
I'm just tryna make you wish it's best better in hope
And you know, well, if that's settled then I guess it's a bloke that you know
It's only back watchin' at a mount fort
I'll snap a block fountain for that downpour



Credits
Writer(s): James Walton, Joseph Oliver Corfield
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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