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DUST ON THE KEYS (reworking of instrumental track by Silvio Vinci )
There’s dust on the keys, and smoke in the room, midnight hanging like an old perfume.
I hit a low note, let the high one slide, there’s a whole lot of trouble on the other side.
Dust on the keys, whiskey in the sound, play it a little dirty, turn that rhythm around. Dust on the keys, nothing left to say— just give me that groove and let the old thing play.
The drummer leans back, bass walks slow, somebody laughs where the blue lights glow.
I pull on the drawbars, make that old Hammond cry, a little bit of heaven, a little alibi.
Dust on the keys, whiskey in the sound, play it a little dirty, turn that rhythm around. Dust on the keys, nothing left to say— just give me that groove and let the old thing play.
No need for answers, no need for names, twelve little bars and we’re back in the game.
So leave that dust there, don’t clean a thing— sometimes the dirt is what makes it swing.
Dust on the keys… dust on the keys… keep it low, keep it loose, and let it breathe.