The Last Poets
Jazzoetry
Rhythms and sounds
In leaps and bounds
Scales and notes and endless quotes
Hey! Black soul being told
Hypnotizing while improvising is mentally appetizing
Off on a tangent
Ain't got a cent
Searching, soaring, exploring
Seek and you shall find
More time, more time
More time, more time
More time, more time
More time, more time
To find who? How? Where were you? Are you blue?
We're not thru digging the new
Climbing higher, soul's on fire
Seeking the top, can't stop, dig bop!
Left earth on a new birth
In space, out space, our place and face us
Regenerated less complicated, vibrating, educating, stimulating
Young and old as a whole
Those who know jazz is prose
And how it goes and is going to be
Me, us, we, free
Baby can't you see
Hey! Check it out without a doubt what it's all about then shout!
Off and on, being born
Rhythmically in a wail can't fail, smooth sail
Break it down, run it around
And give it a pound on the town in the world
Dig the sound of our love inside our pride that's on the ride
Jazzoetry is poetry!
Getting hat on a scat
The beginning of this, the end of that
Riffling on a cue, the play is never through
Solid, baby! Me and you
Smooth glowin' and flowin' while your horn is blowin'
Puttin' on the show
Digging some mo' black ego!
Going up, growin' up that's us
Smokin', cooking, hard boiled like a cobra-coiled
Blowing your mind to rhythmic time
Digging up driving, striving, arriving at conclusions
Life and death all in one breath!
Minor chords, soft keys, summer breeze, winter freeze, listen please!
Breakin' the rules, schooling the fools
Jazz is cool that's the truth
Dig my proof rhythm and swing doing your thing
Abnormally, informally, Jazzoetry is poetry
Poetic vibes, masculine bass
Flute and drums pick up the pace
Piano keys on a spiralling flight
That's jazzoetry in black and white
Brilliant colours, glowing hues
Intimate expressions, personal views
Spreadin' the news, by way of the blues
Brothers, others, lovers, mothers, sons, friends
Brothers, others, lovers
Mothers, sons, friends
Brothers, others, lovers, mothers, sons, friends
On the set − ain't none of y'all been freed yet!
Trying to pin what's happening
What you're coming from and going to
Communicating with me and you
Internal feeling is spiritually healing
When I'm dealing with jazz
That has turned me on
Blow that horn!
Of course it's boss, get on your horse
And ride with pride jazz and poetry side by side!