lirik lagu ska noir – melbourne ska orchestra
[spoken]
skip, skip o’neil. up and coming young jazz h*rn player, doing well for himself. in demand, getting the gigs. he was even backing up some of the better*known divas in town
yeah, skip was going places. his star was on the rise and so was his ego. he turned up one day yapping about how he’d scored this gig with some big international ska band playing next sat*rday
hah! isn’t this some joke. easy money for just playing one note over and over. they sk*nk, apparently. i could do this gig in my sleep. quite the [?] for someone who was new to the [?]
now don’t gеt me wrong. skip was no slouch on the h*rn. he’d donе his time in the woodshed[?]. he could play high, he could play low. he could even play pretty
but, the one thing skip had never done was play one note over and over all night long
but, i’m getting ahead of myself. showtime. and things were going well for the first few numbers. playing the offbeat to some simple rocksteady wasn’t really a stretch
by mid*set, the pace was picking up, smiles from his new musical comrades. the kid was having a ball. what a blast! a [?] rhythms! joining in with the band’s goofy dance routines. he was on top of the world
it was about that time when he felt that first twinge, like when a runner feels a stitch coming on. it was a spritely little two*tone number. he remembers it well. some call it flagging. some call it lack of stamina. call it what you want, skip was in trouble. waist deep in denial
how hard can it be to play one note? i mean really?
nevertheless, his face muscles were threatening strike action. it was getting hot in the kitchen. he was getting what you’d call…chopped out[?]
half smiling, he glanced around, hoping he wasn’t the only one suffering like this. he was wrong. this was a walk in the park for them. he had to save face. keep going! keep going, he told himself. i can do this! he mustered all his willpower and found a second wind. he was back! no one seemed to notice
hm! but it was short*lived
skip was in emergency mode. this adventure was going pear*shaped. he was throwing notes overboard just to stay afloat. he thought he was getting away with it when the band leader dropped out the rhythm section, just leaving the h*rns sk*nking by themselves!
oh god, what fresh h*ll is this? it was obvious to all around that he was floundering. there was nowhere to hide. add to this, he could feel the beat flipping inside his head. the mathematics were off. his offbeat was morphing into an onbeat
boy wonder was rapidly becoming boy blunder
it was like being lost in the desert of some dali*esque melting clock nightmare. what he did know was that his pulse was precisely one half*beat removed from reality. that was a sad place to be
the cold tingling feeling was flowing through his stomach when just like that, it was good night, irene. skip’s lips flipped. his chops were toast. this skippy was bushed. he was bowing out mid*song. it was a one*note disaster
ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce rubber lip skip
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