Sage Francis - Slow Man lyrics

rate me

I'm a slow man…

Looking for a slow woman who wants to slow dance

I'm a slow

Looking for a slow woman who don’t care that I’m old lookin'

Got my soul tooken back where the fallen angels land

I know Brooklyn like the back of a stranger’s hand

Can’t recognize my own…I wing it though

I bring it home

Familiarity's the first thing to go

Next thing you know…there’s a photo that you're staring at

And you can’t quite place the face that is staring back

Someone erased the names and the facts, dates on the back

Maybe they're just fading so fast

that you can't keep up with it.

Can’t recover it

Lost in the shuffle of the Grand Prix hustlers

If you can’t keep up to speed with the mother ship

and can’t take the heat then your man needs the oven mitts

I can’t be the judge of it,

my hands bleed

'cause they reached for some answers and got trampled by a stampede

of know-it-all homogeneous types, The look-alikes

The kids burn my music and the parents burn the books I write

I think back to those lonely Brooklyn nights

I was either soul searching or just looking for fights

Each woman had her price

The dice didn’t roll right

All my jobs were odd ones,

my problems had bold type

Snow White didn’t expect that I’d leave 'er

The strobe light set off epileptic seizures

I know right from wrong when I write these songs

My goals in life ain’t what I set my sights on

Slow man...slow man...slow...slow

I'm a slow man…in my slow man stance

Looking for a slow woman who wants to slow dance

I'm a slow man in my slow man stance

Looking for a slow woman who don’t mind my home cookin'

I'm no good when I'm a bad, bad man

My dance so slow that it looks like my last stand

But I'm a bad, bad man

My dance so slow that it appears to be a photo

And I'm a bad, bad man

My dance so slow, it appears to be my last stand

And I'm a bad, bad man

Imma' dance so slow, it looks like a photo

Truth be told

It takes more than having a picture taken for you to lose your soul