Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 1000 Words, artist - Scroobius Pip. Album song No Commercial Breaks / Words - Live at the Royal Albert Hall Algar Room, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 02.03.2013
Record label: Speech Development
Song language: English
1000 Words |
Let’s go right back to the start |
What better way to begin |
Before too much of the corruption, the temptation and sin. |
Before the gloss was taken off, back to sand castles and grins. |
Before the world we were living in became riddled with Ritalin |
I had a very normal birth, no wise men did attend |
Born into my family as son, brother and friend |
I had a normal start to life with a very normal infancy |
And over the years many events did influence me |
But there’s one that stands out now with a special place in my mind |
And the more times I think back the more new memories I find |
When I was four years old, out in France, I almost died. |
A wave swept up to the shore and took me back for the ride. |
And in that moment of fear I gazed below normal tide |
That’s when the depths of the ocean showed what was really inside. |
I saw a man sat just below the surface on a rock. |
And his wisdom filled gaze withdrew all panic and shock |
And unlocked an inner calm that let me float down to his depths |
Without any flailing shaking arms or panic filled breaths. |
I swear we sat for hours before words were introduced. |
Just relaxing in a world, below the fights and abuse. |
Below the weapons of war, below the cars and the ships. |
And then when he felt I understood he slowly parted his lips |
«The pen is far mightier than the sword», he said, |
As he stabbed his pen in my leg and the ink mixed with the red. |
«With this action I inject the gift of knowledge instead |
Of all the other cluttered thoughts that will clog up your head |
But if at any point you take the spoken word just for granted |
These words will stick in your mouth and fall out broken and parted» |
It didn’t hurt for some reason but I could feel a change inside |
But I hadn’t really understood what his words had implied |
I thought id wait for his next words with my mind open wide |
And with the guidelines that he gave me I would try to abide |
Again much time passed with silence being the topic |
But the serenity was such bliss I had no words that could stop it |
Then after what seemed like a lifetime had passed |
He stopped and looked right through me like I was made up of glass |
And at that very moment I was grabbed from this landscape |
As I left this wise old figure I quickly prompted a handshake |
And I was carried back to shore, my life saved by my own dad |
With no memory at the time of the experience I’d had. |
And so I went on with my life these things locked up in my brain |
I grew up no different from the rest, everything just stayed the same |
Until one day I realized sometimes my own speech was erratic |
Like the needle on my record would get all caught up and static |
And at school, this affliction didn’t make things too easy |
An easy target so the kids would sometimes laugh at and tease me |
I guess there’s no denying this made me stand out from the rest |
But that kind of thing has never fazed me. |
I just took it in jest |
Sure the broken stammers of a youth can kind of bring some attention |
But the sympathy of a teacher can get you out of detention |
And this continued, until I reached a certain age |
Until I started to thrive for knowledge from every word and every page |
All of a sudden, the words would just flow off of my tongue |
When I got bored of how one sounded I’d just learn a new one |
I started listening to all these people who showed great use of each word |
Feeling the buzz with every single line from Gil that I heard |
The way he manipulated the language and really made it develop |
As he told another story from 125th Street and Lenox |
And Mr. Mojo Risin', the American poet |
Had enraptured my mind with words and would never know it |
I would sit in my room for hours just listening out |
For every underlying meaning in the words he would shout |
Then I’d put on The Specials to hear of their social commentary |
You couldn’t help but get drawn in, sometimes even involuntary |
And the way that Rakim would take my mind on a journey |
To a kind of lifestyle and scene that never used to concern me |
A completely different world to the one that I lived in |
But I could connected to the language and the passion within him |
So I started to write, inspired by those here before me |
Id found an outlet for thoughts a way of telling a story |
So I wrote and I wrote until I felt it was time |
To put some of this stuff on tape and then I started to rhyme |
Once I started climbing I knew there was no way I could slip |
And that was the one true birth of this here Scroobius Pip |
The one with the leather ties and weathered eyes |
Who’s 37 clever lines left 37 severed minds |
The one that speaks but never lies |
And sometimes fails but always tries |
And the more he writes the more he finds |
It pays to bleed between the lines. |
They say a pictures worth a thousand words |
So with these thousand words |
I’ll paint a picture in your mind that breaks the rule of thirds |
They say a pictures worth a thousand words |
So with these thousand words |
I’ll paint you one big picture in your mind that breaks the rule of thirds |