Nikki's Whit's

Skippin’ down the street I realize everything was pale. Why in a day like today does this street seem so pale? The gray brick ground seems so flat but yet I feel its curves. The buildings worn down not used but yet I can see the colors it portrays. This street needs some liveliness, give it some beauty. Today is a special day and nobody should be gray. I stop in my tracks swingin’ my golden trumpet to my mouth. Let the people celebrate and get their joys out. I play my trumpet movin’ on, lettin’ the notes slip through the windows piercin’ The ears of all Negros hiding till dawn. My trumpet sung, my trumpet danced Playin’ the jazz to play the ants. It turned the streets around, draggin’ all the people out. The sun shinned though the street As I played an old fashion beat. I looked around to seein’ children dancin’ to the tune Makin’ me want to smile to see their smilin’ faces move. I stopped puttin’ my trumpet down turnin’ around