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Post flow flow my dome is still steaming
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Passing cheap hotels toward home to get dreaming
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The city sky is starless on foot because I'm carless
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But the thirty block walk from the spot is not the farthest
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That I've gone I move on kept company by neon
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Lights 3 a.m. tonight the air is like freon
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Fifty in my pocket not much but I can't knock it
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Getting paid to light the mic up like a bulb in a socket
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Flip the switch tonight I saw it in their eyes
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The Fingers kept it live the energy never died
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It wouldn't be denied 214 Burnside
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We kept their heads moving even kids outside
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You can see them on the street through the stage door gate
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Ten o'clock even when it gets late
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Pass the mic at the end of the night to Dave Queen
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Then come back on Tuesday check out Sid the Tennesseans Tony
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Green and Stella yeah I remember Tuesdays
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No bad things now bring me back to hear the new play
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I'll stay late with D.J. Sass until the next day
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Fuck Key Largo take me back to the X-Ray
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Take me back to the X-Ray
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My fingers are frozen my coat is soaked through
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My toes are past numb we've got a hundred more to do
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They're only getting wetter got to get another up
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Luke loads the stapler then he slaps the hammer shut
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Tack tack tack down the right then the left side
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If you see Five-O then you'd better step hide
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Wait until they pass and come around the block again
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Time to go back to work before this late night ends
|
Over on my left he's holding up another poster
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Pushing up the corner as the staple falls close to
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His index finger as his breath lingers in the air
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Water trickles up his arm he doesn't seem to care
|
He doesn't wear gloves they make it hard to grab the paper
|
On a late night caper with a state of the art stapler
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Damn it's getting cold but still we've got to pass the word
|
Plastering the poles from Hawthorne to twenty third
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But not in front of Fred's or Crocodile they'll tear them down
|
And never cover the X-Ray's 'cause they support the sound
|
Luke will tack it back if it belongs to a friend
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But if you cover his you'll never see your shit again so watch your
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Posters...
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Here we go again after the show again I've got to hit the
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Streets work my feet and get my flow again
|
All alone and then I feel the pavement on my aching feet
|
Dawn will come before this trip's complete
|
Concrete and light rain stain the city I was born in
|
I hardly feel alive as the horizon whispers morning
|
Walking on train tracks from halls where the name's at
|
I wanted to clear my head but once again all of the pain's back
|
I'm torn between the place I'm in and where I want to be
|
Faith won't wait kid so what's it gonna be
|
Forget it and let it go take no as the answer
|
Or if you choose to do it better get serious as cancer
|
But see I took a peek and looked deep into it
|
And after what I saw I'm not so sure I should pursue it
|
Still I know a half-step is likely to be my last step
|
And playing live beats nine to fives so thrive or hit the casket
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-----------------
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Posters
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| Five Fingers Of Funk |
