Everybody Sing Sing Sing – A Chant Royal

2014_0528_bullseye

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~~~
I been told it’s great leaders who wield the power
but I gotta tell you, that’s just one percent
cream in an organic story gone sour.
Takes more than a Springsteen in a voice full vent
to set my feet running toward a land of hope and dream.
See that backup band with gospel-lit singers stream
their talent behind ‘n through The Boss’s lead? That’s a jumpstart
hooked up my generation’s searching heart.
I’m just saying it’s time to let go the cling
to that musty, old, out-dated ‘you gotta lead’ crap and HOOK UP MY PART.
Come on now, everybody, sing, sing, sing

It ain’t that the Boss ain’t great, of course he’s our
hero, I’m saying there’s a whole lot of discontent
risin’ up, smearin’ the views from that there ivory tower.
Who do you think built the goddamn tower? Ya’ll seem intent
on believing it wasn’t the head, heart and hands numbered in reams
of slaves and scholars, believers and aetheists, the laser-beam
focused, and wandering hearts with their questionable smarts
all, somehow serving together exactly the right mix, playing their part
to raise the nations, the bridges, hell, even the very building
housing our presidents, our corporations, our children, our art.
Come on now, everybody, sing, sing, sing

I’m telling you now, the first place we gotta quit with the cower-
ing is on our own war’s freakin’ frontline. Makes no sense
to get all up in the business of how everyone else done devour
stuff at my expense, when I’m sittin’ here devouring every cent
of my own self worth ’cause I be so judgmental ’bout every theme
imaginable inside my own crazy head. Now that there, that’s some cream.
But I’m telling you, that shit’s hard to look at, takin’ me all apart
settin’ up these trashed looking self-bits on rickety carts
to bake in the sun til they got some kind of flavor-bling
or til I can love, live, and laugh with myself, even when I fart.
Come on now, everybody sing, sing, sing

Once my itty-bitty inside backup singers sang me a tune that weren’t all dour
its easier to find what kind of player I wanna be. I gotta say time spent
bought me a pair of those 3-D glasses, you know the ones take a flower
like in Avatar, and make it practically a world power? Now don’t get all bent,
I’m not saying everyone’s gonna discover they be a world power. The scheme,
to this here life – well it ain’t about bein’ in charge, bein’ the team
captain, the rock star, or the dang president. What I’m sayin’ is we all like Bart,
you know, Homer Simpson’s kid? We all got a part. And me, suffering heart-
burn with none of them pink alka-seltzers in sight, thinking I don’t know my thing,
Now I got the memo says all I gotta do already be written in my DNA’s chart.
Come on now, everybody sing, sing, sing

Now if I be a secretary cause I’m a kick ass organizer, or a shower
curtain hanger cause I got long arms, or a frickin’ Janis Joplin all bent,
or a naked street performer type, or some nerd studying flower
petal formations, I be as key to the outcome as Rockefeller’s dollars and cents.
And if I be that important, YOU is that important. You hear me? Scream
all you want, like you Mick Jaguar in bell-bottoms with gold-stitched seams
all over your private parts. Seriously, if that’s what’s written in your DNA’s chart,
honor it. That’s the key. Go on now, you. You be the the Courtney singin’ tart
or the back up singer, the truck driver, or the dope-sniffer. Whatever you bring,
deliver it. Cause what you are, what you be learnin’ and becomin’, it all your part.
Come on now, everybody sing, sing, sing

The thing about power is, everybody’s got it. We don’t need t’ go to K-mart
or be trying to grab it from who we hate ’cause they be big bullies, it’s a la carte!
Hell, load up on as many servings as you wanna create. ‘Cause here’s the thing:
You and me, them and us, we all be the bulls-eye, we all be the dart.
Come on now, everybody sing, sing, sing

© Lori Fleming, 2014

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