Dizraeli - Bomb Tesco lyrics

"1 2 3 4"

Who's this?
Another rapper with a messiah complex
Thinking when I write a concept
It stops the nonsense
But God chuckles, so I let go
Playing African drums in the carpark of Tesco

My heart is vast and growing
I speak in paradiddles
Casting poems out through the
Drab and the drizzle that drives down
And penetrates the shoppers' coats
One office bloke gives me a look
Like "you can't stop this bro"
But, I can bang a drum
Until my hands fall apart
And if it makes one shopper
Dance that's my calling answered
My reason for playing the evening
Til the morning after
Carry my flame like stigmata
Through the falling darkness
And the rising light i hit the goatskin
The nature of sound means it
Always finds an opening
This time I'm hoping it
Might find your lughole
And if it does I'll flood
Your subconscious with a drumroll

With the movement what? The movement
None of your rulers can stop the movement
Because it moves in the veins of the movers
Their brains and their boots
And the strains of their music

It's the movement what? The movement
None of your rulers can stop the movement
Because it moves in the veins of the movers
Their brains and their boots
And the strains of their music

"This is your time bomb Tesco"

That's my primal ish, son
My tribal rhythm bounces
Somewhat manically in
The cavity of your sinus system
In order to fill your mind
With this ethereal medicine
You might just find yourself beatboxing
In the cereal section or tapping 4
4 beats on tins of corned beef
Or slapping a solo on a slab of mature cheese
The manager's called Steve
And he comes over to chat to you
Saying, "please
Do not practice drum patterns on cans of tuna
It's very distracting to the consumer"
But in mid-opus Steve freezes and
His eyes switch focus
He grabs a pack of Kit-E-Kat
Starts to shake a latin rhythm with it
And the shelf-stacker, Dave
Is rapping bit's of lyrics he's very gifted
And within a minute Delores
From storage has chipped
In with a sung chorus in Zulu
They never knew she could do that
It's hard to believe Steve is beating the
Bass on two vats of margarine
And Dawn, from customer services
Is busting verses over the PA
And Gary who has a nervous
Twitch and a weak brain
Is stamping out the hardest beats on
The counter of the pharmacy
Scattering paracetamol rather anarchically
Before long the whole supermarket's deep
With raw song Somebody's even
Found some frozen cod they can play chords on

Four long hours later you step
Out in the fading light
With a new perception of space and time
In the carpark
A strange guy is playing a djembe
What a weird way to waste a Wednesday

In the carpark
A strange guy is playing a djembe
"What a weird way to waste a Wednesday"
You say

"Folks, can I just get you
To go "the movement" one
More time? Just get you all
To really shout it"

"1 2 3 4"

We're the movement what? The movement
None of your rulers can stop the movement
Because it moves in the veins of the movers
Their brains and their boots and
The strains of their music

It's the movement what? The movement
None of your rulers can't stop the movement
Because it moves in the veins of the movers
Their brains and their boots and
The strains of their music

It's the movement what? The movement