Photo Credit: The University of Minnesota, art by: Leonardo da Vinci
Beat beat beat constant in the beat
pounding slapping toe tapping beat.
dont talk to me when the horn sings
fender string bender with the slowest
single note screams in elegy.
I can live without color if I could
live within this beat.
Man, those dixie delta men
knew of what they speak,
Baby, it hurts so good, how
can anything hurt good? Unless,
the rhythm of loss of mourning can
be repeated by BB or by
the living loving constant of
a Stevie Ray. Baby, its so good
that beat the rhythm the music-speak
a language ripe in passion awaiting
ears to pluck it away and revel in.
Don't tell me no way when inside
is the beat beat beat of a music
only felt, never heard.
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