dan le sac vs scroobius pip - waiting for the beat to kick in... lyrics
silently i step up with a subversive subtext,
trying to feed the need for more than just remedial subjects,
place my faith in the belief that the general public,
will open up their minds to more than just an industry puppet.
i ain’t a preacher preaching doom and gloom,
well not just yet,
but if there’s something i feel strongly about,
then i’ll discuss it.
and if i only make one alb-m before i kick the bucket,
i’ll hold that alb-m to my heart in my grave and say, “f-ck it!”
waiting for the beat to kick in,
but it never does,
waiting for my feet to grow wings,
that lift me above,
all of these tiresome things,
that we know and love,
waiting for the beat to kick in,
but it never does.
waiting for the beat to kick in,
but it never does,
waiting for my feet to grow wings,
that lift me above,
all of these tiresome things,
that we know and love,
waiting for the beat to kick in,
but it never does.
a lot of my poems and writings seem to start with me waking up or being in a dream, or a dream-like state.
now, this implies a certain level of abstraction in my work.
you might say i’m keeping it surreal but… i’d rather you didn’t.
the fact is: i sleep a lot. it’s as simple as that.
ahah, and i like sleepin’ man. it’s a nice place to be.
…right.
i was walking along through unfamiliar streets,
and it felt strange ’cause there didn’t seem to be anyone else around.
i don’t know where i was but it had the feel of new york,
but not new york in real life, the new york you see in old films.
i can’t really explain why it just had that vibe,
every step i took felt somehow more dramatic.
so i kept walking and down an alley, behind a bar, sitting on some metal steps i saw a man.
from the look and smell of him it was clear he enjoyed a drink,
but he wasn’t in such a state i felt him to be any kind of irrational threat so i approached him,
with due care.
“ah, mr. pip,” he said out loud,
“we’ve been awaiting you, my name is elwood p. dowd.”
now just what he meant by “we” i didn’t really get,
but all the same i took a seat next to him on the step.
he said “you’ll meet a few people before this day is through,
who will administer advice and guidelines to you,
now what each of them says i’ll tell you now is true,
but whether or not you take that advice is for you to choose.”
at that point he acted like someone had whispered in his ear,
which, since no one else was there, was pretty d-mn weird.
awkwardly i looked away and kinda played with my beard,
he cleared his throat for a second and then said, “listen here,
in this life you can be oh-so-smart or oh-so-pleasant,
for years i was smart; i recommend pleasant,
being smart can make you rich and bring respect and reverence,
but the rewards of being pleasant are far more incandescent.”
with this information i was encouraged to walk on,
i continued alone through these empty streets,
thinking over what elwood had said,
but at the same time thinking about how f-cking strange the day had been so far,
i was in my own little world when a hand was placed on my chest,
and a guy said, “look out, there’s some broken gl-ss on the floor there.”
i looked up.
he said, “hi pleased to meet you, my name is lloyd dobler,
i’ll get straight to the point, won’t take too much time from you.
i’m probably the youngest person you’ll get advice from today,
and you may think a guy my age wouldn’t have anything to say,
but it’s said that observation, not old age brings wisdom,
and i observe every single life lesson i’m given,
i won’t attempt to tell you about how to love or be loved,
’cause you get a different genie each time that latern is rubbed.
but i will offer you advice on dealing with life,
its ups and its downs,
its troubles and its strifes,
now i’m sure you’ve had times you’ve felt down and angry,
wanted to lash out, punch a wall, and be manly.
but the question i pose now will offer you a plan b,
and maybe some peace and quiet for your friends and family:
how hard is it to decide to be in a good mood,
and then just be in a good mood?
that’s all i have to say ’cause it’s a straight up fact,
you control your emotions, it’s as simple as that.”
he walked off then,
leaving me to contemplate this brief encounter.
i barely had time to realize i was being taught something before,
he was gone.
and i was back on my way.
on i walked and almost immediately i spotted the next guide,
he couldn’t be clearer.
this guy was standing on the street corner pacing back and forth,
skinny looking guy, leather jacket, tight jeans, retro look,
i’ve rarely seen someone looking quite so uncomfortable in their own skin,
twitching, smoothing his hair back, kicking the floor, looking up and down the street.
he clearly didn’t enjoy waiting around, so i approached him quickly,
to put him out of his misery,
and to let him start his …spiel.
“hi, my name is billy brown,
i ain’t gonna give you some quote,
instead i’m gonna use some stuff that you wrote,
‘always had the feeling i could never be the villain,
’cause the villain in the films is always backlit
always had the feeling i could never be the villain,
’cause the villain in the films is always backlit.
now i find it pleasing to defend myself with reason,
but this clock is always sitting on my back,
tick, tick, tick.
then, no explosion but partic-p-nts erosion,
like a picture over overly exposed and,
like a fox that’s been run over in the road and…’
basically what i’m trying to say to you
is you don’t achieve anything by letting the past rule within you,
getting all pent up and angry about stuff just eats away inside you,
what’s that other line of yours?
‘if you can’t forgive and forget, how’s this?
forget forgiving and just accept that that’s it.’
see that’s how it’s gotta be,
then you can fall in love, get on with your life, and be free.”
almost before he could finish that sentence he was off down the street,
hands in his pockets, hurrying away.
now quite accepting of the totally surreal time i was having i rounded the corner,
and continued onto my next encounter,
resigned to the fact that this was some kind of dream or hallucination,
i made my way through the now-dark street,
to the one window that had a light on,
i walked through the unlocked door,
which incidentally had blinds down,
and a silhouetted figure like a film noir scene,
but sadly no sign saying private eye,
as i entered a voice promptly said,
“this journey’s almost over,
i’m the only one left,
allow me to introduce myself,
my name is walter neff.
the other guys have taught you things of great positive worth,
but i’m afraid i’m here to bring you back down to earth.
see you can live your life in control and be nice,
but even that will not promise you a happy life.
you may think yourself in general to be a nice guy,
but i’m telling you now, that right there is a lie,
even the nicest of guys has some nasty within them,
you don’t have to be backlit to be the villain.
whether it be greed, l-st, or just plain vindictiveness,
there’s a level of malevolence inside of all of us.
you can paint yourself and image,
and live in your own little dream,
but this ain’t a dream, it’s one big silver screen.
so when you think you’ve got your happy ending don’t ever forget,
it ain’t over ’til you hear the sound of your end credits.
you’ll be waiting for the beat to kick in,
but it never does,
waiting for your feet to grow wings,
that lift you above,
all of those tiresome things,
that you know and love,
waiting for the beat to kick in,
but it never does.
waiting for the beat to kick in,
but it never does,
waiting for your feet to grow wings,
that lift you above,
all of those tiresome things,
that you know and love,
waiting for the beat to kick in,
but it never does.”
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