The Afro-Cubist's Dream

Verse 1

Wet stones

Cobblestones under my shoes

Black tea

I take it bitter

Rain hits the pavement

I hear the tube train rumble underground

The city

It never sleeps quiet

I walk

I wait

Chorus

From Soho to Havana

From Soho to Havana

Hot steam and cold rain

Hot steam and cold rain

We play the midnight numbers

The rhythm is a ghost

The rhythm is a ghost

Verse 2

Basement

A low ceiling of smoke

Silver horn

Glinting in the dim bulb light

I press the brass keys

The reed is dry against my tongue

One beat

Two beats

The conga player starts to sweat

A wooden crack

Bongos talking back to the bass

Fast hands

Fast feet

Chorus

From Soho to Havana

From Soho to Havana

Hot steam and cold rain

Hot steam and cold rain

We play the midnight numbers

The rhythm is a ghost

The rhythm is a ghost

Bridge

London is grey

Cuba is gold

The tape is spinning slow

The needle is heavy

I see the sound

I feel the sound

I am the sound

Verse 3

Tape hiss

A ghost in the machine

Tube glow

Warmth on a winter night

I play the flatted fifth

A jagged line across the dark

Short breath

Long note

The rhythm never lets me go

It stays

It haunts

Chorus

From Soho to Havana

From Soho to Havana

Hot steam and cold rain

Hot steam and cold rain

We play the midnight numbers

The rhythm is a ghost

The rhythm is a ghost

Outro

The sun comes up

The club is empty

Just the echo

Just the echo

Rain on the glass

Rain on the glass

Gone

Gone