james cook - there's no harlem with out you by كلمات أغنية
music starts with a lone, melancholic wurlitzer riff. the bass joins, then the drums kick in with that steady, head_nod groove. distant harlem ambiance lingers in the very back of the mix.)
(verse 1)
the bodega light don’t feel as bright
since you’ve been gone,it’s just a fl!ckerin’ night
our park bench empty,the june bugs hum
a silent tune for where you’re from
i walk these streets,they’re just a map
a faded photograph,a trap
of memories in every brick and door…
i can’t hear thе music anymore
(pre_chorus)
and i’m just a shadow on 125th
tryin’to remеmber how to live
with all this love i’m meant to give…
(chorus)
’cause there’s no harlem without you
no brownstone sky,no morning dew
there’s no one i can come running to
when these city blues come crashing through
no,there’s no one who can love me like you do
no,there’s no one… feels like home the way you do
(verse 2)
remember how the fire escape
was our front row to the summer’s ache?
the gospel drift from sunday’s door
you made my spirit ache for more
now every”good mornin'” just feels plain
a melody i can’t explain
is missin’from the daily score…
i can’t hear the music anymore
(pre_chorus)
and i’m just a shadow on 125th
tryin’to remember how to live
with all this love i’m meant to give…
(chorus)
’cause there’s no harlem without you
no brownstone sky,no morning dew
there’s no one i can come running to
when these city blues come crashing through
no,there’s no one who can love me like you do
no,there’s no one… feels like home the way you do
(bridge)
(music strips way back to just wurlitzer and bass. vocals are ultra_close, choked with emotion.)
you were the rhythm in my walk
the confidential sidewalk talk
the safety when the sirens screamed
the fabric of my wildest dream…
this city’s heart…it beats with yours inside of me
(strings swell powerfully here, leading into a climactic instrumental break with a mournful, crying saxophone solo over the full band.)
(outro/chorus reprise)
(music pulls back again, vocals are raw and ad_libbed over the core riff.)
no,no harlem… without you…
who can i run to?(tell me, who?)
ain’t no one…ain’t no one… who loves me like you…
you were my harlem sunday…
my sweet monday morning…
my melody…my home…
(vocals become whispers and hums, the ambient street sounds return and fade up, blending with the final wurlitzer chord, which hangs and slowly decays to silence
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