Jazzy Grandma

DAVID LIANG, YUNFAN SUN

Zoom in the lens on a wild, wild East
See a clever girl, daughter of a squanderer
Dressed in second hand love, fibers so tough
Clinging by a thread but she hauled herself up

Yearned for higher learning, didn't have the right chromosomes
Told her only duty was to pass his chromosomes
Hard pass, to the mountains she fled
Rocked out on the organ with a chorus of kids

Soundtrack to a carefree time
Green jagged hills kept the chaos in line
Gold dust sprinkled all over the place, over the clothes, over the hair

Everyday a celebration in the tropical heights
River mirror glowed with the purple twilight
Evening boat rides on a gentle wave of clouds
And she would row this way and that way

This way, that way
This way, that way
Which way she will row
Nobody knows, nobody knows

This way, that way
This way, that way
Which way she will row
Nobody knows, she doesn't know

Now and then she would get a rosy letter
Every brushstroke drew a better future
But the sketches in ink never came to be
Blotted out by a storm fast approaching it was time to flee

Hitched to the wagon of a slumbering beast
Rolling over rocks at a breakheart speed
Mad dash ascending to a city on the hill
But the race didn't stop at the top

She found herself trapped in a cauldron of heat
Surrounded by a feast but only given scraps to eat
Lights came on, masks came off, orders came down,
Dirty laundry piling up

And out from underneath she crawled to the window
Peeked through the pane, the moon gave the go ahead
Open the hatch, the cool wind lifted her wings, carried her out, over the wall, off she flew

This way, that way
This way, that way
Which way she will fly
Nobody knows, nobody knows

This way, that way
This way, that way
Which way she will fly
Nobody knows, she doesn't know

From the summit she bobbed down the river
Current so erratic she learned to maneuver the ball
Each bounce gathering dialects, black and white photographs, three little ones and

Always in motion, surrounded by commotion
Contamination came out in the wash of the ocean
What remains is a childhood collection of music and words
Minus the hurt

Many years later she dreams of the weather in the tropical heights
Can't quite recall that purple twilight nor the names, the faces, the green and the gold
But the feeling is the same

Never had a compass built according to plan
Caught a few breaks and the arrow would bend but it never ever came to a stop
It'd either go this way or that way

This way, that way
This way, that way
Which way she will dream
Nobody knows, nobody knows

This way, that way
This way, that way
Which way she will dream
Nobody knows, only she knows

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