Last of the Great Bassline Hunters
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Last of the bassline hunters
A dying breed of men and women
Trapping basslines through city streets
Ancient old tracking
They can smell a bassline from 400 miles
Last of the great bassline hunters
See him in the early morning
Trying to find those basslines
As they escape from clubs on their way home
The great bassline hunter
With his binocular and his net
Setting up diversions
Making the city his own
Stalking the left field range
Last of the great bassline hunters
Last of the great bassline hunters
He lets young basslines go till they grow fatter
Traps them in his net setting up traps, tracking
An ancient art
Last of the great bassline hunters
An ancient art
Last of the great bassline hunters
An ancient art
Last of the great bassline hunters
An ancient art
Last of the great bassline hunters
An ancient art
Last of the great bassline hunters
An ancient art
Last of the great bassline hunters
An ancient art
Last of the great bassline hunters