I'm a slow mana¢æ|looking for a slow woman who wants to slow dance.
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I'm a slow man in my slow man stance. Looking for a slow woman who don't care that I'm old lookin'.
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Or got my soul tooken back where the fallen angels land.
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I know Brooklyn like the back of a stranger's hand.
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Can't recognize my owna¢æ|I wing it though.
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I bring it home. Familiarity's the first thing to go.
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Next thing you knowa¢æ|there's a photo that you're staring at.
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And you can't quite place the face that is staring back.
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Someone erased the names and the facts, dates on the back.
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Maybe they're just fading so fast
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that you can't keep up with it. Can't recover it.
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Lost in the shuffle of the Grand Prix hustlers.
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If you can't keep up to speed with the mother ship
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and can't take the heat then your man needs the oven mitts.
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I can't be the judge of it. My hands bleed
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'cause they reached for some answers and got trampled by a stampede
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of know-it-all homogeneous types. The look-alikes.
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The kids burn my music and the parents burn the books I write.
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I think back to those lonely Brooklyn nights.
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I was either soul searching or just looking for fights.
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Each woman had her price. The dice didn't roll right.
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All my jobs were odd ones, my problems had bold type.
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Snow White didn't expect that I'd leave a¢æ?er.
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The strobe light set off epileptic seizures.
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I know right from wrong when I write these songs.
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My goals in life ain't what I set my sights on.
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Slow man. Gotta get up and go, man. I know, man.
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It's like I'm half of a whole man. Gotta get back on the program. So let's go, man.
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I'm a slow mana¢æ|in my slow man stance.
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Looking for a slow woman who wants to slow dance.
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I'm a slow man in my slow man stance.
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Looking for a slow woman who don't mind my home cookin'.
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I'm no good when I'm a bad, bad man.
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I'm gonna dance so slow that it appears to be my last stand.
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But I'm a bad bad man.
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I'm gonna dance so slow that it looks like a photo.
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Truth be told. It takes more than having a picture taken for you to lose your soul.
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Slow Man
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| Sage Francis |
