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THE SKAZ (by Silvio Vinci)
Midnight walking,
down the avenue,
silver shoes
and a crooked point of view.
Nobody talking,
everybody knows,
the bass keeps moving
where the cool wind blows.
Here comes the Skaz —
sliding through the backbeat,
Here comes the Skaz —
moving underneath.
No explanation,
no reason why,
just a little rhythm
and a sideways smile.
Coffee on the table,
smoke against the light,
somebody missed the morning,
somebody stole the night.
Here comes the Skaz —
leaning on the one,
Here comes the Skaz —
before the night is done.
Dig it…
Black keys, white keys,
something in between,
dirty little Hammond
playing sharp and mean.
Trumpet says maybe,
tenor says no,
drummer says nothing —
he just lets it go.
Skaz!
Take it down…
One for the money,
two for the sound,
three for the people
still hanging around.
No destination,
nothing to prove,
if you don’t understand it…
Just get in the groove.
The Skaz…
The Skaz…
The Skaz…
Hit it.





