It bends, twists, and flies,
A beat that oozes soul from a back street where they roll dice outside.
Air is thick with purpose and feet move with direction,
Jazz grooves that take hold of your spine and shake it like a rag doll,
Until you’re flowing like liquid gold, just right.
It’s warm where we move.
Travel in packs, never quiet or alone,
Cases with names faces on stages.
Living for the permanent flow,
Pause isn’t allowed, there’s always a crowd.
Saxophone knows my mood, blows me where I need to be.
Boys onstage keep it going ’til we could be anywhere,
State of mind to lose track of all time, now get in line.
The sound is our oxygen,
We paint shades you’ve never seen,
But your soul recognizes them and sighs with a smile.
The music never stops in some hearts,
You just gotta go to the right places.