A penny whistle, a rock and roll band
A symphony, a stick on an old tin can
A lullaby and a jazz quintet
A polka, a salsa and a minuet
A screaming guitar, a pounding beat
Dancing in heels or in bare feet
Wailing trumpets, piano rags
Fast tarantellas and tempos that lag
The drummers begin, the dancers arrive
And suddenly we know that we are alive
Choirs of peace, and marching bands
Soprano who hits all the notes nobody else can
A banjo, a koto, an oud, or darbuka
A cellist who dares to replace a bazooka
Cherokee Dance, a Mississippi blues
A troubadour daring to bring the news
Crossing the border, deep in the night
Ave Maria to hold off my fright
A sweatshop of noise where boredom can kill
Tapping her foot reflects a powerful will
Raising my children over the prison phone
Humming and humming so they won't feel alone
A child who can’t sleep, a pain in her bones
A parent who sings so he won’t feel alone
Teenagers survive behind headsets of sound
Escaping the terror of a family unwound
A church on alert - the choir sings out
And women in hats begin to shout
Shout to the heavens, a grand jubilee
Raging and twirling in ecstasy
Birds in the sky, and bees in the hive
We know we are dying and we know we’re alive
How would my days have gone without a drum and a song?
How would my days have gone without a drum and a song?

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