Butter Dust - Lee Scott

Hustle for crumbs with dust in me lungs

Sitting on the breadline, buttering buns

Funds are low but it’s something though

Sitting 'round waiting for the sun to show

But when it does I go to sleep again

I dream through the heat but I hope we meet again

In a solemn mood, craving solitude

Avoid me like eye-contact on the tube

Headphones on, volume up

I high-dive into me Costa cup

Tap the sensor, card declined

Where you at?

I’m right here, but I’m hard to find

Pave another acre, face the problem later

Step out on the street, to offer god a straightener

Here’s some more concrete, to accommodate ya

Leaf-print Patta trackie, I’m at one with nature