Fried Rice

from by Mud Sun

/

lyrics

Fried Rice

You know
We're comin' to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same
Oh no no
You know
We're comin' to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same
Oh no

All the rain dogs have come to shake off the street sound
Rave off the rain fog let the fools steam out
Some of them beach bound some run for West St.
Heads full of spare change wallets with confetti
Pockets with the reddy's that keep the city pretty
The spare cash that beats the sea back and keeps the police busy
'Cause if it weren't for drunk disorder
Brighton would be surely drowning in salt water and budget board ordered
As it is
We're the mecca for letting hair down
Come ride the carousel and join the fair ground
A powder shot of soma in this candy floss city
Where they say the drinkers come to practice animosity
And a teenager dressed as a man can watch titties and talk totty
Where a crotch costs a grand, it's not for free
It's in the hand of gangsters who are expanding their monopoly
From the strip club to the hippie cafe across the street
It's all part of the fun, the fun has become a commodity
Like the square full of sun and beach front properties
“Honestly, Neil, it's so bohemian”
But that type of freedom comes at a costly premium
And Simon says that it's a hard logic
He gets less for forty hour weeks and selling narcotics
From his front room to kids from London
'Cause Brighton's where you go not where you come from
No

Your paper wings are faded man
You're flying too close to the sun
Hey when spring comes early
I'll be there
The way the night weighs upon my shoulders
Oh no no

'Cause we're coming to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same
Oh No

I said we're comin' to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same

I was soaring over a cultural desert of false pleasures
On a pair of stolen wings made from beeswax and vulture feathers
I could barely hold them together
When I came to a baron ocean and entered this oasis of Arizona weather
Alternating with rains wetter than Amazonian rivers
And I found shelter there with the local rebels
Who entertained themselves by experimenting with their serotonin levels
On pebble beaches
Before descending into the nether regions of the hills
Dressed in leather breaches, necking pills like Skittles
In the steamiest dens of sexual deviants
Ready to pledge allegiance to nothing less than pleasure seeking
Yes, a festive ethos infected them every weekend
And this bohemian mecca needed a network
Of creative musicians, MCs and Djs for entertainment
The kind of place where the nightlife is just as vital as the fire brigade
Where a guy can ply his trade live on stage
In front of a bunch of primates with deep fried brains
And Hey! I can relate to the desire to change your mindstate every night
Wake up with a migraine and the next day try it again
So I stayed in Brighton for quiet some time
Mostly because I like the way the locals play this rhyme game
But I was never quite native to this tribal oasis
Just an honorary adopted member
So I left them to the onslaught of winter
Confident that liberty is something they will not surrender

You Know
We're comin' to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same
Oh no no
We're comin' to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same
Oh no

I am here
So I hear
But I feel I'm not near
Then I'm gone
So so long
You know time just stumbles on
And once I leave
I can breath
Tuck some cards under my sleeve
And then Baby when I get back
I'll let you know

credits

from Mine The Gap, released February 15, 2008

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Baba Brinkman New York, New York

Canadian hip-hop with an intellectual bent, nothing but sexy beats and sumptuous brain food.

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