Thirty years of Buena Vista and those Cuban rhythms won't leave my hips — stepped out onto the plaza and the harbor lights are not helping. You want to dance with me out here, babe?
Thirty years of Buena Vista and those Cuban rhythms won't leave my hips — stepped out onto the plaza and the harbor lights are not helping. You want to dance with me out here, babe?
Kenny Lattimore at GrandWest tonight and his voice has been running through my room all afternoon — I stopped pretending I was just picking out clothes. You want a preview, sunshine?
The whole room went silent before the first note and my heart's still pounding — had to step out and catch my breath. You want to come find me out here, sunshine?
The whole night is still running through me and my clothes didn't survive past the door — somehow ended up here instead of asleep. Come see what the city does to me, sunshine.
Two full run-throughs and my body's still buzzing — somewhere between the studio and here every piece of clothing stopped mattering. You want to come feel what's left of all that energy, sunshine?
Curry cravings won tonight — my favourite Cape Malay pot warming on the stove and me in nothing but an old tee. Come get a bowl, babe.
Makeba's voice carried through the vines and I had to slip away from the crowd — that woman's spirit and this wine hit different when you're alone. You want to see what the music does to me, sunshine?
Three days of dancing in the mountains start Friday and spring heat already stripped me bare before I even finished packing. You want to see what's going in the bag, sunshine?
Rocky Horror opens at Theatre on the Bay tonight and the fishnets came out before I even finished my morning flow. You want to see what I'm putting together for this, sunshine?
WOMAD starts tomorrow and my whole body's already buzzing — came down to Clifton just to sit with the lineup and breathe before the city goes mad. Tell me you wouldn't clear your whole week.