Down by the River

 

I was down by the river when the music began

A half cut Rasta beating on a tin can

A slithering rhythm that crashed with the waves

I danced with the suits and the kings and the slaves

The bass line was rising, then sunk like a ship

The movement was grooving all down the strip

Girls on my mind and speed in my shoes

The tide was turning and I couldn’t refuse.

 

I was down on the river when the music began

With no real trace of a policeman

The trumpets were calling and floating away

Into the night, more games to play

Dancing along to the big bright lights

With screams and dreams, supreme delights

We found our peace upon the shore

Where fun and laughter never bore

 

I was down on the river when the music began

Never did I think this was part of the plan

The hoodies and the bikers were all in a trance

The wind picked up and started to dance

And quick as a flash came the musical climax

Everybody’s head was on fire like smokestacks

Now was the time when we all were together

And all of our bodies were light as a feather

 

Down by the river we danced on the breeze

The bass was starting to tickle and tease

When through the crowd came shields and bats

And swarmed across the bank like rats

Injecting fear inside the groove

Trying to make the masses move

Along the line without a fight

But no one will forget that night

 

Down by the river where the music died

And nothing was over analysed

And all the people bustled on

Back to where they all came from

Some were busy, some were lost

Inside the city’s bitter frost

But now they can say that they were there

When the music began on a wing and a prayer

◄ The Cock and Bulldog Inn (new and improved)

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Comments

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Fri 10th Feb 2012 17:06

I like the subject matter, and it has a certain flair. IMO, some lines are quite good; and you've kept up a persistent rhyme scheme, sometimes a bit awkwardly. Perhaps there is just too much material here, a common indulgence that tends to lose the reader rather than suck him into the writer's ideas. I fight this tendency all the time. Keep writing. It's a good idea to read your own stuff out loud as you compose.

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