Ed...'ang around mate...there'll be another Tom Petty cd any minute now and well fack me Reg...it'll stop the flow of crude in the gulf...and if it dahn't, well there's always fackin' Bruce Springteen to throw shapes and fists in the air in a fit of pique at its essential unamericaness...but hey we were born to run...born to inherit the runs, the bourbon, whipping out a revolver at the slightest indiscretion Pat...hang in there...a strong cup of coffee and a tin of beans and you can get back on your horse and feel good in the saddle while the missus is ballin' an illegal immigrant (sorry mate I meant immegrant)...you cant. as in you cunt...not as in

you cannot...

be serious...

And well David, I'd crap myself if I were you mate (but even more so Monsieur Rickets) intendin' to listen to this coz he'd fackin make you look like a prick mate. Light up a Marlboro dude and suck it in deeply and think 'where the fuck did it all go wrong'...

I could tell you more but listen to track 5 The Wave Sweeper (all the way through)...you might even re-invent yourself you lazy cant