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Buffalo Walk in the walk of the chant right by,

Is of voice,

Rings truth divine.

Of seeding of sowing

Of being right here.

Of joining the crowd

For the knowledge so dear.

I love the beat of the slant in my talk

When I am the wind

And you tall grass

Go and find every moment

Your sound is the meadow

That circles round the space

Of jams

To float in the cloud of

Of of-

Oh, to be the lightening bolt,

Riding on the sea!

Oh, to be the determinous volume

of sounds reverberating.

To be, to be, to be alive!

About a melody

That is the jive!

To groove, To groove, To groove on by!

Round the rhythm

Of inspiration–

Inspiration divine!

Smiles in, Smiles out,

Miles and miles–

Oh, joy about!!

Do people laugh at me

Or all around?

How does one differentiate sound?

To throw one of course,

Only to fool.

To act, to act, to act so cool.

To freeze, To burn, To live it off,

To be the sun,

That has a cough,

To be the magnet that holds the sloth–

In the room till it forgot.
Then brought it back to be a scene

To trick a trickster 

Good luck.

That’s obscene—

Peace and prance,

And love on by,

Be the wind That leads the fly.

Choose the words

To be your grace–

“Choose the good,”

Chants human race.

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