Schäffer the Darklord - The Drummer lyrics
[Schäffer the Darklord - The Drummer lyrics]
Who’s that cat always sitting in back
As the rest of the band
Stands? The building is packed
Catch a glimpse once they kill it back
By the back bar in black
Pants and a Zildjian hat
That’s the drummer, that’s the motherfucker
I told you
Laying backbeat, backbone of the whole crew
Keeping time, keep it tight, keep it rocking
Got a couple drum keys never
Not in his pocket
In his stick bag find a
Pair of jacked up brushes
And washers for his hi hat’s backup clutches
A broken mallet and a shaker egg
Swinging ice cream treats and chicken legs
He’s got the sawdust falling from
His hair and his beard
Hands covered in callouses and a
Ringing in his ears switching up styles
Getting wild for a louder pop
Funk, blues, power rock
One-two-count ‘em off
Snare’s up in the cans, get it mixed in
Hear the drummer get wicked
As the syncopated rhythm of the
Double bass kicks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Quicker than the crashes that
Demand that you listen
Hear the drummer get wicked
Let it ride upon the waves into
The heads that it sticks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Sick, kid, when the cymbals are shattered
Stacking flam paradiddles onto
Triplet patterns and popping them, stop
Then dropping bombs like he’s Bonham
Bringing hellish crossfire to
His wooden coffins, Got them
Heads nodding in 11/8 swirling
Helicopter blades in both hands twirling
Like he’s fighting with sai
Wild and sliding in tricks
Pro Mark, 5A, no nylon tips
You know he knows Moby Dick like
The back of his hand
His double kick rig taking up half of the van
And about an hour to soundcheck it
Going through it so slow
Guitar Center hero with the showroom solo
Tub-thumpers who have sat for so long
Behind singers who never let them
Ever write any songs
The time has come for you to
Take a stand and to strike
Rise up from your thrones, step
Up to the mic, Like
Snare’s up in the cans, get it mixed in
Hear the drummer get wicked
As the syncopated rhythm of the
Double bass kicks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Quicker than the crashes that
Demand that you listen
Hear the drummer get wicked
Let it ride upon the waves into
The heads that it sticks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Liquid
He thinks he’s getting good
But he can handle criticism
He’ll show you what he knows
And you can tell him if
You think he’s getting better on the drums
Beneath the weight of crown
He holds and breaks it down
A change in pace and sound
The fast beat will be back around
And we will bounce some more
Seated with queens and kings
He rarely ever sings
He cannot tune your strings
Or fix the way his floor tom rings
But he can count to four
Snare’s up in the cans, get it mixed in
Hear the drummer get wicked
As the syncopated rhythm of the
Double bass kicks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Quicker than the crashes that
Demand that you listen
Hear the drummer get wicked
Let it ride upon the waves into
The heads that it sticks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Wicked
As the rest of the band
Stands? The building is packed
Catch a glimpse once they kill it back
By the back bar in black
Pants and a Zildjian hat
That’s the drummer, that’s the motherfucker
I told you
Laying backbeat, backbone of the whole crew
Keeping time, keep it tight, keep it rocking
Got a couple drum keys never
Not in his pocket
In his stick bag find a
Pair of jacked up brushes
And washers for his hi hat’s backup clutches
A broken mallet and a shaker egg
Swinging ice cream treats and chicken legs
He’s got the sawdust falling from
His hair and his beard
Hands covered in callouses and a
Ringing in his ears switching up styles
Getting wild for a louder pop
Funk, blues, power rock
One-two-count ‘em off
Snare’s up in the cans, get it mixed in
Hear the drummer get wicked
As the syncopated rhythm of the
Double bass kicks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Quicker than the crashes that
Demand that you listen
Hear the drummer get wicked
Let it ride upon the waves into
The heads that it sticks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Sick, kid, when the cymbals are shattered
Stacking flam paradiddles onto
Triplet patterns and popping them, stop
Then dropping bombs like he’s Bonham
Bringing hellish crossfire to
His wooden coffins, Got them
Heads nodding in 11/8 swirling
Helicopter blades in both hands twirling
Like he’s fighting with sai
Wild and sliding in tricks
Pro Mark, 5A, no nylon tips
You know he knows Moby Dick like
The back of his hand
His double kick rig taking up half of the van
And about an hour to soundcheck it
Going through it so slow
Guitar Center hero with the showroom solo
Tub-thumpers who have sat for so long
Behind singers who never let them
Ever write any songs
The time has come for you to
Take a stand and to strike
Rise up from your thrones, step
Up to the mic, Like
Snare’s up in the cans, get it mixed in
Hear the drummer get wicked
As the syncopated rhythm of the
Double bass kicks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Quicker than the crashes that
Demand that you listen
Hear the drummer get wicked
Let it ride upon the waves into
The heads that it sticks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Liquid
He thinks he’s getting good
But he can handle criticism
He’ll show you what he knows
And you can tell him if
You think he’s getting better on the drums
Beneath the weight of crown
He holds and breaks it down
A change in pace and sound
The fast beat will be back around
And we will bounce some more
Seated with queens and kings
He rarely ever sings
He cannot tune your strings
Or fix the way his floor tom rings
But he can count to four
Snare’s up in the cans, get it mixed in
Hear the drummer get wicked
As the syncopated rhythm of the
Double bass kicks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Quicker than the crashes that
Demand that you listen
Hear the drummer get wicked
Let it ride upon the waves into
The heads that it sticks in
Hear the drummer get, hear the drummer get
Wicked