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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