Funk

Note to readers - the words aren’t meant to fit in with the beat of the song. Just play it loud, loud as you can and read on when the proper beat kicks in.

Gotta funk going on, funk going on

Not feeling like me, at all like me
Not warm or welcoming, I’m sure you’ll agree
I’ll shut myself out and turn myself down
But my internal drives won’t stop spinning around
And though I’ll  read through the timeline, I won’t respond
Won’t take the chance, a chance to reach out and bond
And it’s me that I’m mad at, me that’s at fault
Can’t bring this internal funkness to a halt
Did you tell them it all, tell them all about me
What the funk’s wrong with you man, seriously
Not feeling like me I’m feeling all oh so wrong
Christ, how can I do this, and what’s with this song
Too loud, too random, blaring away
Wouldn’t listen to this on any other day
May be it’s just playing here in spite of myself
May be I’m just doing this to spite myself
Know I want to make contact, wanna stop and talk
But can’t straighten myself out, can’t now walk the walk
Just want to shout it, shout out every last drop
Gotta get me out of this funk, this funk god-awful strop
And it’s just winding myself up, so wind yourself up more
Christ, what are you man, are you forty or four
Just keep right on mooding, keep quiet, stay the same
And if they kick your fat ass, don’t matter, part of the game
So I’m waiting, just waiting, I know they’ll be one
And I’ll tap on they keys, finally, knowing I’m done
And I’ll quickly feel better, now I’ve ditched all the junk
Lost all the baggage, jumped out of my funk
But leave the tune running, my foot’s tapping away
May be it’s really not that bad,  turn it up, let it play.



Thanks to The Prodigy