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Waiting Around (cùng với Aesop Rock)
billy woods, và, Kenny Segal
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🇬🇧 English · Original
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Uh, a hundred hours of balsam and cedar
Await who follow the leader, who ain't just follow procedure, I'm saying
I'm saying I was called to the ether, via receiver
Not a piece of me is drawn to the theater
I was drawin' and painting, recording songs in my bedroom
Stuff I could never have conjured inside some alternate venue
When you was all in together, I wasn't comfortable ever
And ultimately my value became the sum of these demos
They're like my sons and my daughters
Even the ones that were lemons
Even the hundreds of sketches that ushered nothin' but messes
When you was asking 'bout touring, I get the crux of the question
It's just the bulk of the answer is of another dimension
If I close my eyes and think of reconstructing an essence
That isn't functional at present, I can't fuck with the premise
It's like the act itself would almost undercut the intention
If I show up for attendance, I'm just unplugging the message
Tell me somethin', what's a sheep when everyone is a shepherd?
Or better yet, what's a student who ain't rough around the edges?
Using music to confront the gunk, that's gumming up his engines
I ain't judging, I ain't nothing if not buffing out a blemish or ten
I'm really not some fish out of water as I don't practice a discipline
You could fit on a altar, it just don't figure in at all to what the vision involved
Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not another brick in the wall, yeah
Waitin' around
Waitin' around (molded all my idle time and gave it purpose)
Waitin' around (bust shots at Big Ben like we got time to kill)
Waitin' around (my heart's still in sorrow)
In Bruges with time to kill, but time must've knew and hold up
Somewhere it didn't have to move
My room had a view, safe fulla Euros, I miss having nothing to lose
22, wanderin' Amsterdam, 2200 in my shoe
Jay-Z in the discman, two grams in the 'wood, toss it in the canal if it starts to canoe
Cannonball run, now it's barely a splash in the hotel pool
The night's young, I sit in the corner and watch her move, spinning like vinyl
Jumping out the groove, grassy gin winning over sweet vermouth
Framboise, ginger root, mussels and pomme frites
Confit leeks, feast like Kongi's Harvest
An expatriate heard me speak American 5'3", thick as congee, porridge
Took a seat, immediately smelled weed
We smoked outside in the darkness of the eve, jaundice moon
She had perfect teeth, purple haze had your boy like, "Come home with me"
She kissed my cheek, diplomacy
I walked cobblestoned streets alone, Old Testament stone
Old poems just out of reach
Congolese concierge fast asleep, big, lonely suite
From the tiny balcony, I watched my planes leave
Waitin' around
Waitin' around (molded all my idle time and gave it purpose)
Waitin' around (bust shots at Big Ben like we got time to kill)
Waitin' around (my heart's still in sorrow)