I’ve always secretly dreamt of being a musician, a songwriter, a lyricist. If you catch me daydreaming, it’s probably because i’m thinking of what rhymes with what, or how a a silly situation could become a funny song. I’m writing a song at the moment about a depressed window (‘Window Pain’), but that’s another matter.
I thought i’d share with you something I am working on at the moment. It’s about the struggle of myself, as a middle class white girl who has led a pretty happy and normal life, to make it big in the music world. Read it as an ironic rap. Picture me, dressed head to toe in gangster gear, i’m talking grills, flat cap, chains, the works. And try to imagine an Eminem style backing track… (lol)
Not much ado about me:
This is a rap about L.U.C.Y
Who’s never gonna be a rapper and U. WLL. C. Y…
Its not that I’m not trying, or that I don’t care,
Its just that on the face of it i’m shamefully square.
See I haven’t got a very good accent,
I curse the day that I went to a school in Kent.
If I hadn’t then maybe who knows,
But I’ve hung around too many Tarquins and Hugos.
Then I went to Durham University,
Not known for its ethnic diversity.
It’s all lash, and cash and cashmere,
No ket, cocaine or tattooed tears,
Just rugby and beers.
And yes I was there, fulfilling all the cliches
Like going to Scottish reeling society on wednesdays
Drinking VKs and listening to Rihanna on replay.
Robbie Williams is bipolar,
Bob Marley smoked too much pot,
And i’m just a public school white girl,
They had slightly different problems to the ones i’ve got…
I lived near Tunbridge Wells, in Cousley Wood,
It’s all fine wines and no crime like the hood.
I’m just a short, white, freckly Brit.
I could say ‘Waddup G’ but i’d sound like a tit.
So that’s it for now, it needs polishing and it’s slightly ridiculous. But having dressed up as a man, an old lady, and played with squirty cream on youtube, I don’t really feel like there’s any more room for embarrassment.