Cosmic Funk For An Empty Lane

Paroles de « Cosmic Funk For An Empty Lane »

Intro: a field recording of footsteps on

Verse

Wet tarpaulin. Eighty-six paces.
Yellow tape my left. Bodies my right.
High-vis says keep it clear, love.
So I keep it clear.
Only the carried ones come down here,
and nobody's getting carried tonight.
I count the gaffer crosses on the floor.
Twelve to the gate. I've got time.

Chorus

Best room in the place.
(Keep it clear)
Best room in the place.
(Keep it clear)
Nineteen inches. All mine.
(Keep it clear)
Best room in the place.

instrumental jazz funk soul

Verse

Four of us came in. One phone charger.
Lost the lot by half eight.
Minded about it for a song and a half,
then I found this lane and I slowed right down.
First time since March I've heard my own feet.
Somebody's crisps going off under my heel.
A kid up on shoulders, pointing at nothing —
no main stage from here. Light comes in sideways.
Arms going up behind the barrier,
hundreds, moving like one thing,
and I'm not in it. I'm beside it.
Paper on my wrist says I'm allowed.
Scissors in the car. Been there since Friday.
They can stay in the car.
A woman leans over, warm arm on mine,
asks me where I'm going.
Nowhere, I say. Finally nowhere.

Chorus

Best room in the place.
(Finally nowhere)
Best room in the place.
(Finally nowhere)
Nineteen inches. All mine.
(Finally nowhere)
Best room in the place.

Outro

No one knows my name in here.
(No one knows my name)
No one knows my name in here.
(No one knows my name)
No one knows my name in here.
No one knows my —
No one knows my —
No one.