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