Faithless /

Bring My Family Back (Jan Driver 'bombastic' mix)

Beg you listen me, don't be kissing me til I'm done

Unsung champion of reason
Like seasoning, pepper your thoughts with spice
And entice you to a space where I dwell where bass players
And layers of loops think what I think with my prayers, its nice
My world is everything I've become
Contained in the hum between voice and drum
I'm coming from the same place I'm-a still running from
But even sitting in the garden one can still get stung

I'm on Lonely Street, age nearly three
Recently mama's crying all the time, is it because of me
Or my younger sister, even dad was weeping when he kissed her
Face all puffy like a blister, crying like he missed her
Since we moved away from the house where we use to play
They say I'll understand one day
But I doubt it, mama never say nothing about it
How'd it get to be so crowded, I found it
A strain, everywhere I look I see pain
And I can't escape the feeling maybe I'm to blame
So I strain to listen, praying for a decision, wishing
They were kissing, this feels like extradition
Or exile, mama finds it hard to smile
So I make pretend cups of coffee in her favourite style
She says, "Child, I'm working so there's nothing you lack."
But she know, I want my dad, I want my family back

I'm on Lonely Street, age forty-three
Couldn't gauge when to quit so my wife quit me
Took offence, took the kids, I wish that was the end
But before she took her leave she took care of my best friend
Working all the hours God sent was not the tactic
You see cause after ten years I'm left with jack shit
Wanted to make the cash quick, so I had to work real late
Mad sex, my woman's vexed even if I stay awake
And if I'm honest, I had a little cake at the office
I was eating, we'd do our cheating over coffees
Making tea for their bosses, making free with me
And I agree I got sleazy too easily
But I'm forty-three, this doesn't usually happen to me
Now I'm lonely, I wondering what my son's doing today
Suddenly I'm blinking like the screen on my computer display
And I'm drinking, concerned about what's down the track
If I don't get my family back

I'm on Lonely Street, number fifty-three
Boarded up properly, I'll probably get pulled down
Litter all around, inside there's no sound and no light
But yo it gets busy at night
People creeping, derelicts sneaking in to fix, speaking
On the way my timbers creaking, roof leaking
And bricks coming loose, knee-high in refuse
But even though I'm a slum, I'm still of some use
There was a time my walls were decorated
And under my roof, children were educated
But now paint's faded, windows are all smashed
A crash in the economy robbed me of my family
And no strategy combats negative equity
So that's it, like violence it's drastic
I'm freaking, and seeking to be more than just a house for crack
Somebody bring my family back