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letra de pure imagination - richie cunning

[spoken intro (sampled): lorenzo & calogero]
“do i have talent, dad?”
“of course you have talent! you got all the talent in the world”
“can i be a baseball player?”
“you can be anything you wanna be. remember, the saddest thing in life is wasted talent. you could have all the talent in the world but if you don’t do the right thing, then nothing happens. but when you do right, guess what? good things happen. you heard me?”

[verse 1]
woke up, couldn’t remember what my dream was
but it was probably the same one
where i’m sitting at a easel in the rain with a
masterpiece trying not to let the paint run
it ain’t really nothing new, cousin, bareknuckle
boxing with the snooze b-tton, but he never stays down
i’ve had mornings where i wanted to tell them i wasn’t
coming, but, man, that’s how i’m feeling every day now
take a breath, punch the clock, here we go again
straighten out the nametag, tuck the polo in
trying to swallow my pride, but going out of my mind
taking orders from motherf-ckers i’m older than
lunch break, come back to make chump change
starting to feel like i’m running out of somedays
yeah, cross my heart, hope to die, my
love letter with no reply, close my eyes and
imagine: what if anything could really happen?
what if daydreams was everlasting? (uh) i know it’s
silly ain’t it, but what if i really made it and could
say that i rap without feeling humiliated, i would
send a thank you to everybody i proved wrong
be in the studio before i put my shoes on
jump out my bed every morning like a youngin on
december twenty-fifth and tear the ribbon off a new song
they would love it and they’d play it loud
pour out my heart on the cut, they’d soak it up like a paper towel
they would stop me in the street every week just to
say, “keep holding down the city, boy you make us proud”
i’d be happy as can be, duke, like i jumped
right out of the fishbowl and into the deep blue
but there i go letting my mind get ahead of me
swimming in a rainy day reverie

[verse 2]
clock out, bus home, and change costumes
sometimes i wonder what i’m in it for
another night, another twenty minute chance to
convince twenty people that i’m worth twenty minutes more
if i knew that even one lone listener was
with it, i would spit it till the club had to close down
like a tired old h-rn player blowing with his
case propped open on the street in a ghost town
take a breath, grab the mic, here we go again
crowd thinning, i pretend that i ain’t noticin’
they said “richie, yo you know we got your back, but it’s
late and we ain’t sitting ’round waiting for the show to end”
type of night that turn bangers into sad songs
didn’t even make enough to catch a cab home
same train, same lonely ride, the cold
world rolls slowly by, close my eyes and
imagine: what if anything could really happen?
what if my profession was my p-ssion? what if i could
sit in the back, hit every city on the map and get the
h-ll up out this labyrinth i’m trapped in?
it goes hotel, motel, holiday inn, around the
world with my crew, we just follow the wind, for real
no more waiting on a wish, no more hanging ’round
put the sails up and never let the anchor down
i would light up every face in the crowd, cold
tearing up the mic like ice in a blender
laughs and wild times, h-llos and goodbyes and
too many unforgettable nights to remember
i would wonder if it all could be what it seems
n0body wake me up, please, life is but a dream
but there i go letting my mind get ahead of me
drowning in a rainy day reverie
pure imagination…

- richie cunning

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