Texty piesní Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip

Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip

First Time We Met Musik

I woke early one day after a restless night

I watched the stars burst and fill the morning sky with light

In my hazy daze I noticed something on my bedroom floor

It was an envelope I don't think I had seen before

I opened it with caution and in it did reside

A map and a note that said "join me inside"

I had nothing to do that day outside of my head

So I decided to just follow and see where it led

It led me to a door, grabbed the handle and used it

Stood before me was the physical embodiment of music

I could barely believe my eyes, she was a sepia goddess

Every contour was perfection and her demeanour was modest

Even armed with all this beauty she was in no way belittling

I'd liken her body to the opening riff from Little Wing

Her eyes burned deep with the passion of a nameless chain gang

And lips smart with the vibe of Son of a Preacher Man

She told me she had evolved over time

We sauntered into her room room with just a bed and some wine

We talked for hours about the things she's seen and done but not boasting

We passed the Zinfandel, raised the glass and just toasting

We had a meeting of minds, she breathed life in this old brain

She was the milk in my Kahlúa, I was the Hartman to her Coltrane

Showed me scars she had acquired each time a genius would depart

Jimi Hendrix on her left hand, Johnny Cash on her heart

Different fingers, Mingus, Davis and her leg scarred for Elvis

Ray Charles on her eyelids, Jim Morrison on her pelvis

Then she asked about me and my musical stylings

All the things in life I found somewhat inspiring

I paused, the wine making me feel quite cocky

Feeling whatever I said she would take in, and not mock me

I said I'm a wordsmith and artist, I'm deep like the TARDIS

Every time I aim for something I'm gonna hit the target

She joked: "Gangster rap?"; I said "No, but drop the 'g',

You might start to get a better description of me."

"Angster rap?" she said. "If it sticks you'll regret that,

The most appalling moniker since the dawn of Dan le Sac."

She was a sepia goddess, yeah, her demeanour was modest

Her hair was wild like the darkest deepest of forests

Many before me had fallen at her feet and died

But then I made a connection and she let me inside

She was a sepia goddess, yeah, her demeanour was modest

Hair was wild like the darkest deepest of forests

Many before me had fallen at her feet and died

But then I made a connection and she let me inside

I continue: "Some of these clothes are looking old just like my jaded character

Who thinks like I'm abroad but sometimes I act like an amateur

This hat's an old classic in the first stage of dilapidation

It's a fair evaluation that it's making this equation a little

Top-heavy, if you know what I mean

'Cause there's a fine line between a classic and a has-been."

As I finished that sentence I noticed the sadness in her eyes

This moved me, left my mind wondering why

As we lay there she buried her head in my chest

I wrapped my arms around her, stroked her with the sweetest caress

I wanted to find the right line that could make her sad head lift

Wanted a chance to breathe life back into music like redshift

Said she'd grown sick and tired of the same shit

I said if there was anything in the world I could do, she should name it

She said sit in public places and quietly observe

All of the speeches, mannerisms, every action and word

When something inspires me to concentrate on that thing

Get a pen and pad and then produce a vocal offering

She said "bring the lost art of conversation back

I'm sick to death of awkward silences and all that crap

It's time to talk to one another, share your thoughts and facts

Learn the more of it you give, the more you get right back"

I looked her in the eyes and said I'd do what I could

Then she held my head and kissed me but not like a lover would

But then, it also wasn't like a close friend or relative

Instead of exciting it was calming like a spiritual sedative

And then we lay there until I woke in an empty room

If I couldn't still smell her skin I'd be inclined to assume

That I'd dreamt the whole thing, but I knew that I hadn't

And I'd seen the perfect balance of beauty and talent

After a moment of reflection I rose to my feet

Opened the door with squinted eyes and stepped back into the street

I kind of staggered home and got out a pen as she'd said

I wrote down my inspiration and here's what it read:

She was a sepia goddess, yeah, her demeanour was modest

Hair was wild like the darkest deepest of forests

Many before me had fallen at her feet and died

But that night I made a connection and she let me inside

She was a sepia goddess, yeah, her demeanour was modest

Hair was wild like the darkest deepest of forests

Many before me had fallen at her feet and died

But that night I made a connection and she let me inside