Sound Man - Drapht

Okay, now let me take it back to this Friday, we had a show that night

Step to sound-check, no one on site

No one around yet, yeah, you know what it’s like

It’s the renowned rep, when they’re never on time

And then five will mean seven, nine will mean eleven

This ain’t live.

What, did it die and go to Heaven?

About to throw it in, wanted to go home

Then the sound man, looking like one of the Ramones

Arrived, barely alive smelling like death

In his Led Zepplin shirt, jeans tighter than Bec Cartwright

He was just another bar flight rock pig

Living for the moment, living for the rock gig

Set the stage, two mics, two decks

Check one, two, check, check, one, two, check!

I reckon I need some volume

We want everyone to hear, yeah the whole room, the whole room

And yo Trigga, what the level on your decks like brother?

Oh, yeah, now let’s try cranking, I need more beat

It’s too low, man

Get them out of their seat, quicker than Lindsay Lohan movies

Move like I’m punching Bruce Lee

(Haha, nah, man, don’t you mean Jackie Chan?)

(Oh, What? Jackie Chan, Bruce Lee?)

Hey!

What the fuck you trying to do with me, man?

It’s nothing new to me like I Love Lucy

Man, I gotta shoot through, but it’s sounding thin

Before I go, can you give me one more thing?

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Keeping it moving from the back to the front

Keeping it moving every track that we bump

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Keeping it moving from the back to the front

Keeping it moving, gotta jump, gotta jump

Oh, I arrive at the venue

The ratio, ten dude to three girls on the menu

Men who tend to wanna borrow my ears

And have a conversation like I haven’t seen 'em in years

It kills me and I ain’t trying to be rude

But you’re ruining the mood like the anorexic nude

And the rumour was, the room was jam-packed

'Cause, I ransack my set like Mad Max

But I stand back, 'cause next is Layla

And she steps to the stage with the flavour extinct

As a Saber-Tooth Tiger, but none live her

The only thing that she might need, her mic up

So, I’m right up, head to the sound desk

Ask him to turn it up, where we had it at sound check

Told me to sit down, let him do his job

But this ain’t Woodstock and this ain’t no rock

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Keeping it moving from the back to the front

Keeping it moving every track that we bump

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Keeping it moving from the back to the front

Keeping it moving, gotta jump, gotta jump

Check, one, two, one, two

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the stage my man D-Rapht

The Pale Rider, my Brother Grimm

Make some noise!

Yeah, when I step to the stage I’m a different man

Let me kiss your miss' hand, she’ll go missing, man

Listen and pay attention, no tension here

Hanging on my every word, every sentence clear

Then I hear you, I seem to be getting feedback

Nah, not now, nah, I don’t need that

Sound man just had a rehab relapse

Drinking on my rider, drinking all my free Jack Daniels

And can you believe this clown?

Now no one wants to jump like a ring rebounds

And now I’m drowned out by the sound of the bass

Wait, stop, kill it, nah wait, nah mate

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Keeping it moving from the back to the front

Keeping it moving every track that we bump

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Turn it up sound man, turn it up

Keeping it moving from the back to the front

Keeping it moving, gotta jump, gotta jump

«Turn it up, turn it up»

«Turn it up, turn it up»

«Turn it up, turn it up»

«Turn it up, turn it up»

«Turn it up, turn it up»

«Turn it up, turn it up»

«Turn it up, turn it up»

«Turn it up, turn it up»