Under The Moonlight

On my mark it will be T minus ten And counting. Mark. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, Four, three, two, one. It's time that the jazz musicians take up their Original role of leading the public into a more Adventurous rhythm. Well, it's you I want to see, Not the police. Suddenly I'm falling. I'm falling upright. It's in space. A complete feeling of space and nothingness. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. Slow Twist, head over. Stretching out. Increasing in speed. Mouth open wide, but no sound. It's in space. You don't understand. I could've had class. I could've been a contender. I could've been somebody Instead of a bum, bum, bum, bum, Bum, bum. Carry That stink of the streets with you the rest Of your life. I like the stink of the Streets. It makes me feel good. I like the smell of it. It opens up My lungs. We are oppressed. We are exploited. We are downtrodden. We are denied not only civil rights, but even Human rights. So the only way we're going to Get some of this oppression and exploitation away From us or aside from us is come together Against a common enemy.