We are breath of drop of rain
Grain of sea sand in the wind
We are root of baobab
Flesh of this soil
Blood of Congo brush elegant
As breast of dark cloud
Or milk flowing through the groaning years

We also know
Centuries with the taste
Of white shit down to the spine

The choice is ours
So is the life
The music of our laughter reborn
Tyityimba or boogaloo passion
Of the sun-eyed gods of our blood
Laughs in the nighttime, in the daytime too
And across America vicious cities
Clatter to the ground. Was it not
All written by the gods!
Turn the things! I said
Let them things roll
To the rhythm of our movement
Don't you know this is a love supreme!

John Coltrane John Coltrane tell the ancestors
We listened we heard your message
Tell them you gave us tracks to move
Trane and now we know
The choice is ours
So is the mind and the matches too
The choice is ours
So is the beginning
'We were not made eternally to weep'
The choice is ours
So is the need and the want too
The choice is ours
So is the vision of the day