Lost count of the friends made
Lost count of the ounces of peng grade
Lost count of the faint-praise, amount of complaints raised
Lost count of mistakes made
Lost count of the days, lost count of the years
Can't count on a mate who is yet to appear
Lost count of the gear, lost count of the tears
Lost count of the periods that love disappeared
Lost count of the times I restarted over
Lost count of the times I was owed with closure
Lost count of the roads, lost count of the shows done
Lost count of stoners who rolled us a smoke up
Lost count of the beds laid,
Lost count of the debts made
Lost count of the rent paid, of the doubts that my friends gave
Lost count of the hopes and the "next day"s



Lost count of the good lost count of the bad
Lost count of the happy lost count of the sad
Lost count of the money that I spent on a bag
Pavlov's House lost count of the fash



Lost count of the times locked out of the flat
Lost count of the times knocked down on my ass
Lost count of the raps and the bars that I've not dropped
Lost count of the journeys I hopped-off
Lost count of my feelings and whatnot
Lost count of the times when the cops stopped,
Lost count of interviews given where I'm fobbed-off,
Lost count of jobs that I've not got
Lost count of the fairweather fake breres who wear pleather
Make out they're bare clever, caged you at Their Pleasure
Sitting in a cell still waiting for their letter
Lost count of the ways coulda fared better
Lost count of the travels, the wars and the battles
Plans that unraveled, judgments and gavels
Bury the establishment under the gravel
Lost count of the Prince Andrews and the Saviles



Lost count of the good lost count of the bad
Lost count of the happy lost count of the sad
Lost count of the money that I spent on a bag
Pavlov's House lost count of the fash



Lost count of the rats, that's the Blairs and the Borises
Johnson & Johnson white line nasal blockages
Lost count of the lies and the broken promises
Lost count of how many media accomplices
Lost count of those dangerous cryptids
Lost count of the days we resisted
Lost count of the diptychs, triptychs,
Lost count of the rappers who are only spitting triplets
Lost count of ways that we lost out and then some
Lost count of comrades we call co-defendants
Lost count of cohorts who show no repentance
Solidarity means show co-dependence
And we'll rise up together
Lost count of the days that we made the world better
Ten Days That Shook The World's factory settings
Decades became weeks, ask Vladimir Lenin



Lost count of the good lost count of the bad
Lost count of the happy lost count of the sad
Lost count of the money that I spent on a bag
Pavlov's House lost count of the fash