Charlie Curtis-Beard - Dance lyrics
[Charlie Curtis-Beard - Dance lyrics]
I envision a woman sitting on a
Church bench by a pulpit
Listening to the melodic melodies
In her ear drums
As she uses all her strength
To raise one hand and swing it to the beat
I remember learning how to dance as a kid
My dad would rock bass kicks
And smack the high hats off his drum kit's
And me and my brother would
Rock back and forth and rock back and forth
Like we didn’t know what was going
To happen to our bodies
As the music started to
Converge with our souls
So we sat there and rocked back and forth
Like our ancestors did
Whilst being shipped to an unknown land
In a poorly constructed boat infected
With sickness and shackles
Sat three to a bunk as they bunked heads
Rocking back and forth from the
Repetitive motion of the sea they too
Didn’t know what was going to
Happen to their bodies so we let music flow
Projecting images of freedom back
From the routes
Of when bongos hit the soul harder
Than one nail and two blacks
And three beats and four railroad tracks
I was in fifth grade when I
Learned about rhythm and beats
I learned how to move my feet
Iconic and electronic like electrons
When I did this music would start
To circle around my gravitational pull
Gravitated for a moment as if I
Was defying laws of physic
I was tripping over my own feet
And my feet formed callus
Swaying from ballads of birds tweedle leeing
And humming harmoniously in railroad boxcars
From workers about a hundred years ago
On railroad tracks
Seeing and stomping on their feet all day
Their feet formed calluses from
Driving a steady bass
They used to hate us for
Walking on rails to freedom
They used to hate us for
Walking on rails of progression
And patients for pardoning equal protection
And moonwalking on progression
I was 13 when Michael Jackson passed
Saw glimpses of him on TV
Mimicking his dance moves in my basement
I always liked the idea of
Moonwalking because it looked like
You were moving forward when you
Were really moving backwards
I couldn’t get it down
My dance moves could never move backwards
My dance moves would always
Progress and profess from railroad tracks
To a subway in the Bronx
With spray paint in the hallways
While I’m breakdancing
Breakdancing because sticks and stones
May break my bones
But pops and locks can’t break me fade me
Dissipate me i’m a rebel in the making
No I’m a runaway slave
On a prom night you can’t forget
With a long lost wife you can’t forget
Haven’t seen each other since they separated
Only get 10 seconds to embrace each other
Dancing to the music of the night
Before shotguns can hit them in the
Back killing in an instant no I’m an african
Dying from the sickness of the sea
As the sea pushes me back and forth
And I always missed it when my
Mom would rock me to sleep no I’m my Grandma
Way back in Alabama when she
Was shaken by an explosion
That killed four young black girls in 1963
Something stayed inside her veins and
Was passed down to me dance chose me
Because Dance chooses people that don’t have
A voice of their own
And after three strokes I think
My grandma found hers i can still see her
Using all her strength to raise one hand
… and swing it to the beat
Church bench by a pulpit
Listening to the melodic melodies
In her ear drums
As she uses all her strength
To raise one hand and swing it to the beat
I remember learning how to dance as a kid
My dad would rock bass kicks
And smack the high hats off his drum kit's
And me and my brother would
Rock back and forth and rock back and forth
Like we didn’t know what was going
To happen to our bodies
As the music started to
Converge with our souls
So we sat there and rocked back and forth
Like our ancestors did
Whilst being shipped to an unknown land
In a poorly constructed boat infected
With sickness and shackles
Sat three to a bunk as they bunked heads
Rocking back and forth from the
Repetitive motion of the sea they too
Didn’t know what was going to
Happen to their bodies so we let music flow
Projecting images of freedom back
From the routes
Of when bongos hit the soul harder
Than one nail and two blacks
And three beats and four railroad tracks
I was in fifth grade when I
Learned about rhythm and beats
I learned how to move my feet
Iconic and electronic like electrons
When I did this music would start
To circle around my gravitational pull
Gravitated for a moment as if I
Was defying laws of physic
I was tripping over my own feet
And my feet formed callus
Swaying from ballads of birds tweedle leeing
And humming harmoniously in railroad boxcars
From workers about a hundred years ago
On railroad tracks
Seeing and stomping on their feet all day
Their feet formed calluses from
Driving a steady bass
They used to hate us for
Walking on rails to freedom
They used to hate us for
Walking on rails of progression
And patients for pardoning equal protection
And moonwalking on progression
I was 13 when Michael Jackson passed
Saw glimpses of him on TV
Mimicking his dance moves in my basement
I always liked the idea of
Moonwalking because it looked like
You were moving forward when you
Were really moving backwards
I couldn’t get it down
My dance moves could never move backwards
My dance moves would always
Progress and profess from railroad tracks
To a subway in the Bronx
With spray paint in the hallways
While I’m breakdancing
Breakdancing because sticks and stones
May break my bones
But pops and locks can’t break me fade me
Dissipate me i’m a rebel in the making
No I’m a runaway slave
On a prom night you can’t forget
With a long lost wife you can’t forget
Haven’t seen each other since they separated
Only get 10 seconds to embrace each other
Dancing to the music of the night
Before shotguns can hit them in the
Back killing in an instant no I’m an african
Dying from the sickness of the sea
As the sea pushes me back and forth
And I always missed it when my
Mom would rock me to sleep no I’m my Grandma
Way back in Alabama when she
Was shaken by an explosion
That killed four young black girls in 1963
Something stayed inside her veins and
Was passed down to me dance chose me
Because Dance chooses people that don’t have
A voice of their own
And after three strokes I think
My grandma found hers i can still see her
Using all her strength to raise one hand
… and swing it to the beat