I’m the only one watching the girl with the mic in her hand
The party is over. The groom has just paid off the band
The girl is stone sober – she must have walked in off the street
And this is her moment as she starts to tap her feet

The gun-runner married the gunslinger’s daughter at noon
The great and the good and the greater good thronged in the room
The champagne was gurgling. The fish-eggs on ice were still-born
The bankers and thankfuls
And diplomats and sycophants
Toasted the couple.
The band played a shuffling tune
And under the lights
Someone offered advice
On where to invest
And build up an off-shore nest

The numbers all added up
Then the girl with the mic shows up

The song in her throat has a dissonant note from the start
The mic takes no prisoners, the sinners are thrown to the sharks
The gunslinger’s slung his last salvo, the gun-runner’s next

The mic is a boom
And it’s strapped to her heart
Until death do them part
In the next thirty seconds or less

No more torture-show talk
No derivative gain
From a deal on a plane
This old school is under arrest

The girl bows her head
No more words to be said
And I’m sweating in cold dread
As the mic self-detonates –

But I have been fooled by paranoid thoughts in my head
The girl is no terrorist. The bride and the groom remain wed
The mic is a mic - it is neither a gun nor a bomb
And as for the girl, when I open my eyes she is gone –
With her song

SIMON W. sax
CAROLINE F. additional vocals

Girl with the Mic [feat Simon West, sax]

Casual song-writer, slowly working on collection of original material ('Poncho Land') in collaboration with others

Girl with the Mic [feat Simon West, sax]

Jeremy Freeson