Free
Every day I go to school
to read and write and follow rules;
I try to do the best there that I can.
Each teacher tries to shape and clip—
to grow me here but there to nip;
I try to do the best there that I can.
Some classes let me think and write
of things that bring me back to life;
I try to do the best there that I can.
But then in others I can’t see
that there is any place for me;
I try to do the best there that I can.
~
But those things aren’t the why I go—
the deep down thing that makes me show;
the reason why I want to go at all.
'Cause there’s this class that’s after school—
that’s not so much about the rules,
but something deeper down, inside of me.
It starts when drummer plays the time,
repeating—like a simple rhyme,
that pulls me out of all the where I’ve been.
And then when bass and piano play
the groove begins to heal the day,
and all of us just look around and smile.
‘Cause in this place of subtle time—
of melody, and swing sublime,
we’ve found a where that we know we can be...
...the who we are deep down inside—
where heart, and soul, and swing reside;
We’ve found a place where we can all be:
Free.
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