Big Hammer

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Tell Me

Playing Robots Into Heaven

Fire The Editor

Out Of Rhythm

Blue Hour

Blue Hour (feat. Julianna Barwick)

I dont think i care prod me


Mirror on the wall who’s the sharpest of them all?
Crisp collar, razor fade,
He’s a runway renegade
Polished shoes and ironed dreams
City lights reflect his schemes
Style is power fashion’s art
He wears life like a tailored heart

Every step a perfect pose
Every glance a show he throws

Spiffy he’s a walking headline
Spiffy always dressed to redefine
Catwalk on the street,
Heartbeat to a beat 
He’s glossy, bossy, flawless all the time
Spiffy never less than prime

He counts approval like couture
Chasing trends that feel obscure
Gel and grace, he’s self-designed
Slick obsession in his mind
Catalogues of image fuel
Smirking past the stylish fools
He’s a prince of vanity
Living his identity

City nights he owns them all
Confidence that never falls

Spiffy he’s a walking headline
Spiffy always dressed to redefine
Catwalk on the street,
Heartbeat to a beat 
He’s glossy, bossy, flawless all the time
Spiffy never less than prime

Behind the shades
He hides the flaws
Perfect polish
Painted laws
But under silk
There lies a fear
If beauty fades
Will he disappear?

Spiffy but he feels the deadline
Spiffy racing time to stay sublime
Catwalk on the street,
Heartbeat to a beat
Still glossy, bossy, flawless in his prime
Spiffy he won’t decline
Spiffy forever shine


SPIFFY

Maybe We Could

Tell Me

James Blake