Here She Comes

from by James Brute

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lyrics

Well I feel like Don Quixote on mezcal and peyote
Taking on the windmills of my mind
With a bottle of chianti and my trusty Rocinante
Sancho Panza rides along behind
Sancho Panza, he rides along behind
Then swimming through my vision like some holy apparition
To the sound, the sound of distant drums
My eyes they wont believe me but my ears they don’t deceive me
Here she comes, here she comes, here she comes
Here she comes, here she comes, here she comes

As the fog it clears, I wake up in Ikea
With a bag and a bucket and a basket and a buggy and a bucket and a bin
And they rifle my possessions and start to ask me questions
Like who am I and where have I been?
Who am I and where have I been?
I traded beads for deeds of honour, she kept a bracelet on her
And there’s rings on all her fingers and her thumbs
Like the ghost of Poccahantas I swear she walks among us
Here she comes, here she comes, here she comes
Here she comes, here she comes, here she comes

I have been a thousand places, I have seen a thousand faces
But there’s only one, one that I hold dear
She has brought me to my senses, bust down walls, broke down fences
Now I see so brightly, now I see so clear
Now I see so brightly, now I see so clear
She speaks with the Orishas, she swims among the fishes
She feeds me figs and dates and oranges and plums
I’ve smoked her chillum, drunk her gourd
I’ve held her plastic sword
Here she comes, here she comes, here she comes
Here she comes, here she comes, here she comes

credits

from Lost Soul Music, released December 4, 2019
James Brute: Vocals & Guitar
Mat Martin: Guitar & Vocals
Dave Ferrett: Bass & Vocals
Johnny Manning: Keyboard & Percussion
Fin Brown: Drums & Vocals

Photography: Kasia Wozniak
Mastered by Russell Hepworth-Sawyer at MOTTOSound

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about

James Brute London, UK

James Brute is the former front man of The Brute Chorus. Taking his songwriting and performance into new and darker waters James litters his songs with characters from the Old Testament and Greek mythology and sets them against the most base of human instincts. Now the wild sound and fury is pared back to its most stripped-down; spooked out, strung out and sometimes plain slung out. ... more

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