Filed under: Pensation | Tags: ambition, caged, dance, jazz, Mama, moving on, rock me, sizzle, tremors
I wish I could write me the sizzle of jazz
with the croon of the secrets of midnight
and stir in the backbone a symphony set to
a decade of all that I’ve tried to forget.
‘Cause there’s something too sad on my tongue right now.
It’s honest and unbelievable.
It’s not good enough for the scholarly halls,
and I’m not good enough for the alabaster balls,
so I’ll shuffle to my corner with no competition or gloom
and I’ll weave my own atmosphere to the tune of the moon.
and it goes something like this…
Hum, Mama, hold
hold me steady in the night
There’s a critter in the moon beams
and its face is quite a sight
Oh, hum, Mama hold
There’s a creaking down the hall
and I’m still a little frightened
like a naked baby doll
Yes, hum, Mama hold
Hum a rhythm for my feet
just in case the strength to dance
Is a force that I might meet.
Please, hum, Mama hold
Hold me closer to your breast
grip me tighter till my mind is clear
of tremors and the rest.
Then hum, Mama hold,
on this corner of my bed
I’m a girl with no ambition,
and I’m caged inside my head.
So hum, Mama hold
’till the crimson light is here
While I’m crippled by my doubt
rock me gently through the fear
Hum, Mama hold
to the sizzle of the jazz
to the symphony of decades
to the secrets midnight has
