You’re heading early to your book club at ten
Then your day job and night shift
Then you do it again
I walk up Bowery street stoned and so confused
Ancient history looming all around but I feel new
When you come back home
I just want to know
How do you do
All that you do?
I lay on the floor like a mop
I want you to know
When you get tired
I’ll come to life and I’ll sweep you up
I admire you
You move like fire spreading into the street
I get quiet at the wrong time and kill the party
How you keep me sane
Hope to be the same
How do you do
All that you do?
I lay on the floor like a mop
I want you to know
When you get tired
I’ll come to life and I’ll sweep you up
I admire you
I hate subjecting something as important as music to analysis, but that final chorus on Baybee is just everything that is good in the universe. Christopher Whiteley