Music Man by Sene Lyrics
Well at night when you're walking
Ain't got nobody to talk with
I can be your ear
Just call me I'll be here
And on the train when you're sleeping
I can be the one you dream with
Tell me anything
Tell me everything
Along with all your imperfections
Your mama and your papa combine for one reflection
With one intention: make love
Every day I wake up reflecting on my path and intersections
And all the interventions, times I didn't intervene
Flowers on the grave with a name that used to cheer for Sene
Soul food, fricassee, whole truth, lot of grimy people shop at whole foods
Doesn't make you better 'cause you eating fresh and more fruit
Some are made to hustle, I was put here to record tunes
More importantly to make 'em feel it like a sore tooth
So this is gourmet
Still it's for you
(chorus)
Cheer up, cheer up, cheer up, cheer up
I just want to make you smile
I just want to make you smile
And I know 'em, Mr. Perfect [?]
Just a mister that's submerged in selling dreams to peoples' hurting self-esteems
All the while being sene
No less, bright brochures, broke folk's forts
No beds, no dread, can't judge, no rest, no sun
Can't shine if you crying instead
So good luck
Be cautious, semi-automatics keep coughing
Not everybody lives but everybody needs a coffin
I live my life spontaneously with some awkward pauses
And I plan to do so happily than die from natural causes
And I don't wanna see nobody sobbing at my grave
Stake your claim, play my music and applaud it
(chorus)
Ain't got nobody to talk with
I can be your ear
Just call me I'll be here
And on the train when you're sleeping
I can be the one you dream with
Tell me anything
Tell me everything
Along with all your imperfections
Your mama and your papa combine for one reflection
With one intention: make love
Every day I wake up reflecting on my path and intersections
And all the interventions, times I didn't intervene
Flowers on the grave with a name that used to cheer for Sene
Soul food, fricassee, whole truth, lot of grimy people shop at whole foods
Doesn't make you better 'cause you eating fresh and more fruit
Some are made to hustle, I was put here to record tunes
More importantly to make 'em feel it like a sore tooth
So this is gourmet
Still it's for you
(chorus)
Cheer up, cheer up, cheer up, cheer up
I just want to make you smile
I just want to make you smile
And I know 'em, Mr. Perfect [?]
Just a mister that's submerged in selling dreams to peoples' hurting self-esteems
All the while being sene
No less, bright brochures, broke folk's forts
No beds, no dread, can't judge, no rest, no sun
Can't shine if you crying instead
So good luck
Be cautious, semi-automatics keep coughing
Not everybody lives but everybody needs a coffin
I live my life spontaneously with some awkward pauses
And I plan to do so happily than die from natural causes
And I don't wanna see nobody sobbing at my grave
Stake your claim, play my music and applaud it
(chorus)