Dubmatic
The Force to Understand
A summer in Montreal
I think back to that summer, not so long ago
Such an avalanche which broke a few steps from me
Pursuing me from sidewalk to sidewalk, to hold on
To the last square meter of a certain boulevard
A wave human warmth invaded me
A little later, I stood at the Peel metro station
Meet a Lady Li of sex appeal
With whom I continued in the heart of the quiet city
Crossroads and Capital of pleasures from where I delight in my intellect
The game of life without notice
Montréality I invite you, on the funk Baby for a summer in Montreal
*I invite you for a summer in Montreal
Come and discover a city as beautiful as on a postcard
br/>When the snow melted, the confused smiles
Suggest an adventure that is still only beginning
The trees showed their colors, and in unison
br/>Voices accompany the Tam-tams of Mount Royal
A little further away, beauties sunbathe in swimsuits
Revealing their attributes, what a view! I can't take it anymore
My cone slips out of my hands, I move on
After the Putin Break, direction Sainte-Catherine
The blazing sun is beating down , I get off the bus
Jam in and the Possee have been waiting for me for ages
Follow the funk Baby, for a summer in Montreal
Follow the funk Baby, to stop in Montreal
Basquets, cap as you see the harshness of the cold has been forgotten
To illustrate Jazz in celebration, because I always have in mind
L historical Miles Davis, I pulleys of you
Just like a Night dAfrica" u200bu200bfor a "Vision of America
Standing on the asphalt, a saxophonist practices his art and
has a blast
I cannot remain indifferent to my pockets, a coin I throw away
And continue my quest in search of funk.
I invite you to spend a Sunday at Jeanne-Mance Park
To wander in this atmosphere where outdoors people are mingling.
And the Possee is sitting on the lawn, chilling quietly
The atmosphere is one of festivities, covered in my most beautiful phrasing.
Let me introduce myself into the magmatic mass.
With a sleight of hand the mic
Shatter the ice and melt the different classes
The agitation is in full swing, the cheerfulness fades from the faces
The city rejoices at this agitation, when suddenly,
On the way, searching my pockets with both hands
I extract from these last few coins, a Kleenex but not the right address
I wander in search of funk, the evening I dreamed of
I slip through my fingers, what the height of misfortune!
I foam with rage but pull myself together like a wise man
Draw a line to this effect by turning the page
No wonder Soul is always in the moon!
He who constantly dreams and falls in love with a feather.
Prolific in its time, the moment will come when the sleeper
Taken of stupor, will awaken with a start, constantly yielding his senses to the
sensations of the sound
br/>I walk slowly, without destination, letting the bass, the rhythm,
the treble guide me
On the paths of... funk Baby!

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