Song | Syncopated City Revisited |
Artist | London Elektricity |
Album | Syncopated City |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
In my head a beating drum | |
Deep down inside the day will come | |
When I can sing these words to you | |
It’s the least that I can do | |
In my school the freaky one | |
My hands were sore, my fingers numb | |
From making rhythms on my desk | |
My heart was banging in my chest | |
So it came to pass my beats | |
Were broken by the other kids | |
They make stronger, make me deeper, | |
So my path is getting steeper | |
I love my syncopated city | |
This is my fascinating rhythm | |
I need my syncopated city | |
I love my mindless repetition | |
At the table, fingers tapping | |
Wish that I could stop this happening | |
In the morning, in the evening | |
While I’m working, while I’m sleeping | |
In the street with people watching | |
I can’t stop myself from jumping | |
If I smile and look convincing | |
Maybe they will think.... | |
I’m dancing | |
I love my syncopated city | |
This is my fascinating rhythm | |
I need my syncopated city | |
I love my sense of dislocation | |
I love | |
I love | |
I love | |
If it wasn’t for music I would give it all away | |
I need the syncopation | |
I need the modulation | |
I need the real soul music | |
I need that unexpected twist and turn. |
In my head a beating drum | |
Deep down inside the day will come | |
When I can sing these words to you | |
It' s the least that I can do | |
In my school the freaky one | |
My hands were sore, my fingers numb | |
From making rhythms on my desk | |
My heart was banging in my chest | |
So it came to pass my beats | |
Were broken by the other kids | |
They make stronger, make me deeper, | |
So my path is getting steeper | |
I love my syncopated city | |
This is my fascinating rhythm | |
I need my syncopated city | |
I love my mindless repetition | |
At the table, fingers tapping | |
Wish that I could stop this happening | |
In the morning, in the evening | |
While I' m working, while I' m sleeping | |
In the street with people watching | |
I can' t stop myself from jumping | |
If I smile and look convincing | |
Maybe they will think.... | |
I' m dancing | |
I love my syncopated city | |
This is my fascinating rhythm | |
I need my syncopated city | |
I love my sense of dislocation | |
I love | |
I love | |
I love | |
If it wasn' t for music I would give it all away | |
I need the syncopation | |
I need the modulation | |
I need the real soul music | |
I need that unexpected twist and turn. |
In my head a beating drum | |
Deep down inside the day will come | |
When I can sing these words to you | |
It' s the least that I can do | |
In my school the freaky one | |
My hands were sore, my fingers numb | |
From making rhythms on my desk | |
My heart was banging in my chest | |
So it came to pass my beats | |
Were broken by the other kids | |
They make stronger, make me deeper, | |
So my path is getting steeper | |
I love my syncopated city | |
This is my fascinating rhythm | |
I need my syncopated city | |
I love my mindless repetition | |
At the table, fingers tapping | |
Wish that I could stop this happening | |
In the morning, in the evening | |
While I' m working, while I' m sleeping | |
In the street with people watching | |
I can' t stop myself from jumping | |
If I smile and look convincing | |
Maybe they will think.... | |
I' m dancing | |
I love my syncopated city | |
This is my fascinating rhythm | |
I need my syncopated city | |
I love my sense of dislocation | |
I love | |
I love | |
I love | |
If it wasn' t for music I would give it all away | |
I need the syncopation | |
I need the modulation | |
I need the real soul music | |
I need that unexpected twist and turn. |