The beating of the drum creates the essence of the mood
With every strike you feel the rythym permeate right through the room
And as the sound recedes you feel the end has come too soon
Then the sticks are raised for the second phase, the soloist in bloom
A simple glide across the strings and not a voice is heard
As people listen closely to a tune absent of words
Carress the mind with a melody as the key change re-occurs
The riff is played for the second phase, the soloist his turn
The bass maintains the rythym and rides the piece right to the end
Taken for granted, never changing, always constant until when
The vice is lifted, freedom reigns, the chance to learn to breathe again
The choice is made for the second phase, the soloist my friend
If you connect the dots and retract the bit that doesn't seem to fit
You'll find the piece that compensates for what you lack because of it
There are no words, no voice is heard,it's the power of a jam
The trio plays the second phase, three soloists, one band
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