(uh uh) it's a Saturday night,
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Full crew stepping at the function,
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Keith Lawrence is a weapon of mass destruction,
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Brixton DJ and he played the funk son ,
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A local hero, yo but now he ain't unsung,
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Jimmy brought rum, he looking for clean cups,
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no snacks here you won't be dancing on peanuts,
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strictly hot food, keep you nice and strong,
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so you can go on and on and last long,
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everytime I hear this song, this song,
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I will be played deep brown, the place teared down
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dangerous on the door seen it all before,
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coats and bags on the floor by the decks,
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me next to DJ, I carry the swing,
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fellow his eyes are closed as he exercising, ???
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everybody move a moving, in a unified swing,
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gentle up and down fingertips rolling salsa
|
|
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Mark and Devo in the corner, heading on in by the speaker,
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dressed cool never known to freak,
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outside by the pool on chairs and bars stools,
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are the lovers long term manually discovered,
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some for romance, sum in each others pants,
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sum debutantes with pool side veterans,
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what better than you catch a cross delta,
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and grab a kiss with the moon, that's the number what a
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food still hot cause your pots still steaming,
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Casey screaming, he's not doing the cleaning,
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while he's leaning back with a large grin left,
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after him party would simply start again,
|
|
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This is how I make the party sway,
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Yo I got more styles than Amsterdam got ashtrays,
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I blaze in the shadows with my compadres,
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Cause I stay close to home where I'm known to praise,
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i was raised down south where running your mouth is something my people know all about,
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it's a semi professional pastime, gotta get the last line, you know its your shout
|
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-----------------
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Reasons (Saturday Night)
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| Faithless |
