Portobello Broken Beat

Intro

Verse

Under the Westway the traders unfold

racks of suede jackets and bangles of gold

A man sells records out of a pram

vibraphone funk and a rare Brazil jam

Jerk smoke curls past the sound system stack

the kick drags its heels and I lean right back

Hook

Broken beat on Portobello Road

(Ladbroke to the Grove)

the kick turns up late and the dancers know

(and they don't mind)

swing it off the grid, let the snare be wrong

(wrong is right, oh)

we've been in the pocket all along

(mmm, since the first song)

Verse

An auntie in a headwrap claps on the off

she says the young ones always start too soft

I sit a hair behind the backbeat's hit

and three strangers find their rhythm in it

Rain taps the awning in sixteenths, so fine

even the weather's dancing out of line

Hook

Broken beat on Portobello Road

(Ladbroke to the Grove)

the kick turns up late and the dancers know

(and they don't mind)

swing it off the grid, let the snare be wrong

(wrong is right, oh)

we've been in the pocket all along

(mmm, since the first song)

Rhodes Piano Solo

Breakdown

Late

(ooh, a little late)

later

(mmm, later still)

there

(right there)

[Spoken] "Created by DarkPrincess -- Royalty of the Night"

Verse

By seven the traders are stacking their tables

I buy the Brazil jam with the peeling labels

The pram man winks and knocks off a quid

says "you danced it better than the drummer did"

I ride the Hammersmith and City line

with the vinyl on my knees and the snare in my spine

Hook

Late on purpose, that's the West London way

(ask the aunties)

the drummer isn't lost, he's making it sway

(ooh, that's the trick)

next Sunday same pram, same record crate

(I'll be there)

and the kick will still be beautifully late

(so late, so right)