Jazz Thing

And I would like to play a Little tune I just composed not so long ago Ms. Billie Holiday Byrd? The music called Jazz It's roots are in the sounds of the African Or should I say the mother, bringin' us back again From the drummin' on the Congo We came with a strong flow and continue to grow Feet move, to the beat of the t'balo Now dig the story and follow For then it landed, on American soil Through the sweat, the blood and the toil Hear, "Praise the Lord," shouted on chain gangs Pain they felt, but it helped them to maintain Scott Joplin's rags, Bessie Smith's blues St. Louis blues, they were all the news Ringin' smooth in all the listener's ears Fulfillin' the needs and plantin' the seeds of a jazz thing King Oliver's group was a train comin' through To Chicago, bringin' the New Orleans groove And when Satchmo blew, the audience knew Basil Street blues was the whole house tune It was music, great to dance to Great to romance to, with a lot to say to you Relaying a message, revealing the essence of a jazz thing Jazz music, jazz music Jazz music, jazz music Jazz music, jazz music, jazz music In the 40's came be-bop, the first be-bop The real be-bop, so let me talk about Diz' and Byrd, givin' the word Defining how a beat could be so complete Playing with ferocity, thinkin' with velocity About ornithology, or anthropology And even [Incomprehensible], and this is real history Theolonious Monk, a melodious thunk No mistakes were made with the notes he played His conception, was [Incomprehensible] A star glowing bright among dim lights The critics did cite that he sounded alright Charlie Mingus, such nimble fingers Droppin' the bass, all over the place And Max Roach, cymbals socking Bass drum talking, snare drum rocking Restructuring the metaphysics of a jazz thing John Coltrane, a man supreme He was the cream, he was the wise one The impression of Afro Blue and of the promise That was not kept, he was a giant step And there was Ornette Coleman He was another soul man The original invisible, playing great music I wonder why the Bangles couldn't use it Now listen see, the real mystery is how music history Created by white men or any other white man That pretended he originated And contended that he innovated a jazz thing Of course we know who can really blow Scheamin' on the meaning of a jazz thing And this music ain't dead, so don't be misled By those who said that jazz was on it's deathbed 'Cause when Betty Carter sings a song Ain't nuttin' goin' on, but simply good music And you won't refuse it She's takin' her time, makin' the nuances rhyme Sonny Rollins, tenor saxophone With a big old tone, recitin' poems With notes as words and haven't you heard Next stop butter, right past Oleo Now there's young cats blowin' And more and more people, yes they will be knowin' Jazz ain't the past, this music's gonna last And as the facts unfold, remember who foretold The 90's, will be the decade of a jazz thing I love jazz music A jazz thing I love jazz music A jazz thing I love jazz music I love jazz music A jazz thing