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The beauty of music that beats Pots and pans of percussion eruptions Skin-thin is the drum of the heart Ache in your hardship or rip, Into rhythm Eons of tribals Be with them Here Oh father provider come in here Melting we listen Lifting to your rhythm It’s a sweat and a thrill Be our touchstone Whether a junk bin Or a found foundry Skips-full of listening Beat in my kitchen You handy utensil Seek fusion inside And without – where I’m diving Homemade are your sticks
that play from the heart Pulse in us all Pulse in us all Pulse in us all Paul Marshall |
