I wish we had played on all night,
African cowboys with not much,
Else to do,
I wish we had challenged the fish in the sea and,
Called out to the Bison,
My father and his band,
And his
-strike while the iron is hot-
Jive,
Johnstone, his brother,
On the drums,
Kicking up a riot,
Sarah the lead,
Crooning about her rescue from a,
Very bad man,
Lydia,
Lead back-up,
Flinging in the,
‘Alleluiahs’, and
‘Godda-let-it-be’s!
Samuel,
A doctor dying of AIDS,
Breathing life into a tin-metal harmonica,
‘Alleluhia,’
Rocking the old man at the end of the bar,
And the couple at the table, fighting with their lips,
I think heard it coming when he fumbled the line,
And I wish we had played on all night.