Got It Back

[Hook] Love you, yes I do Yes I really love you And I'd do everything that I can To get you back again [Verse 1] I was young, everything was tough and/or brill Pen scribbled hard, still sharp and fast It all went into the book From the slow-kill job to the blown-bills raving Niche in the sofa deepens Cup of tea and my roll-ups Squeaking wheel from the earhole Gerbil running, Bic Biro hums like the dynamo that night has Spew time lapse, eyes full of light cats Speaking in lover’s tones Spew drunks out on London road To the beachfront, clean shirt, drink, ruck, fuck and home Found way with my fourth brother My navy day-a-page pad ‘09 diary Turn to a journal, a fateful day Gate 13 Heathrow, day long wait Kept busy since, with the dropped fruit Catching apples that would otherwise rot through [Hook] [Verse 2] Now I’m cross legged, bedroom bound North London Rent in a tin on a shelf where I sleep Six people live here, I trust ‘em And I got enough work I know rent's made next week More chilled out now and less angry Less trusting sadly Less self-destruction on the weekend I still love a pub and a free one, I just love my brain more And a page of A4 and a pen’s potential Though I scribble less bars now if I’m honest I always pack a pad in my back pocket Stop write on it when the need seizes Though recent that need comes less freely Now stuff’s just a brush touch easier I still stress, still graft, still work hard But I’m scrabbling in the dirt for that spark where a verse starts More content than the youth from the first half More level, less likely to die from a burst heart Not blocked, still hungry Just flowing slower I’m kinda frozen over I'll do everything I can (everything) To get you back (get you back) [Hook] [Verse 3] So I read more books and I learn Learn more from people Listen, kotch, watch and observe I’m there when I bop along a curb past top dogs, lost souls and salts of the earth Headphones out, in the moment, mind open I stride and my eyes find everything I’m the space where I am and I still got a brain from skating Interpret my street as a play thing Writing’s my new wheels Parks less concrete more metaphysics In the library find me where non-fiction is On the train see me wiggin’ out to Prince and Tom Robbins Listen to less rap since the genre rotted Tired of rinsed rhyme schemes and non-topic concepts Swapped sofa for turf, chair burst Bail out my corner, and found a whole world there Got it back