Lyrics

We were waiting for peter, the dealer He comes in the evening when were fussing in bed He says, "good morning, heres your breakfast" And give us plates of stone Take a pinta blood each from us to give to the poor We count the windows in the cities and tell each other Yes, life is a helluva lot of waiting time Our minds are objects of constipation Our bodies are subject to dissipation So keep your intentions in a clear bottle And leave it in the cupboard when youre out We were waiting for peter, the wheeler He comes in the morning when were fast asleep Gives us a trip thats spending hundred years in a day And takes a bone each from us to give to the dogs We count the wrinkles on the globe and tell each other Yes, life is a helluva lot of waiting time Our minds are objects of constipation Our bodies are subject to dissipation So keep your intentions in a clear bottle And leave it on the shelf when you rap We were waiting for peter, the blower He comes in when were fixing snow on rock Gives us orange juice laced with sunshine and spring And takes a heart each from us to give to the world We count the memories that are lost and tell each other Yes, life is a helluva lot of waiting time Our minds are objects of constipation Our bodies are subject to dissipation So keep your intentions in a clear bottle Throw it in the ocean when you go We were waiting for peter, the weaver He comes in a flash when we're wide awake Says the world can't give us answers Cause its stuttering in its mind Takes a head each off us to give us some peace We count the lights in the universe and tell each other Yes, life is a helluva lot of waiting time