A Lasting Place (live from the Royal Albert Hall)

Trouble in the one six

Trouble in the one six nine

Yeah, saying they don’t want this

Saying they don’t want this life

Trouble in the one six

Yeah, trouble in the one six nine

Yeah, saying they don’t want this

Come across this

Check

Life

She see my father in me

That’s why she argue with me

That’s why they can’t forgive me

Rock and a hard place

Wearing a hard face

Close the door

Leave my house like I’m scarface

Sweet success that I can’t taste

Heard the bang

Still finishing the last race

Lapping me

A year ago yo they was clapping me

Nobody told me that I’d lose it so rapidly

I thought this was the kind of thing that goes gradually

My hair line

The good guys

I was glad to be

Grim reapers catching me

Yeah, it’s like I work for him

I’m being punished for the times that I would sin

When I tried to do right

Still I did the wrong thing

Yo, I thought I was a king

Yeah, trouble in the one six

Trouble in the one six

Trouble in the ons six

Yeah

Saying I don’t want this life

Trouble on the

Saying they don’t want this

What kind of man weeps at the feet of his wife in pain, holds up the pink and shrieking thing and feels the throb of time. What kind of man wraps a cloth around his waist and holds the baby to his chest, walks through the streets swaying like a drunk in the morning. What kind of man feels the rage of men and only swallows at his daughter’s fists… What kind of man bends to hold them in their suffering, in their questions, in their garbled turns of phrase. What kind of man admits his failures, turns over his heavy stones, stands at the feet of grief and wanting and does not turn away. What kind of man becomes a father. A lasting place.

So how am I supposed to sum it up?

Listen, this is what the summer does

And I ain’t losing any one of us

A mother’s love

Yeah, mother’s love

I know it isn’t what it is

I wish it was

The love is great

To raise the man that you hate

Growing in the man that you make

Knowing that if you plan your escape

Then the next man is handed his fate

They say that time waits for no man

At least it didn’t for my old man

So fuck it, me and the devil used to hold hands

A slow dance through the city

Through that cold sand

I’m here all fucking week

and ain’t got no plans

Was staring back at the reflections of a grown man

Staring back at the reflections of a grown man

Damn

But I don’t want to be an old man