There's no moon over Amersham tonight
A still warm rock in the shadow of Chances
Across the Ghaut, Brodericks sprawling right
The sun just went to sleep
Nox encroaching star by star 
Peep, peep, and peep

Why is he here?
What is he waiting for?
Chasing an unusual impulse
Like so many times before
Somehow it feels different today
Special 
On the verge of…
A hint of…
He can't quite say
And suddenly
Filling the atmosphere
Ubiquitous
Reverberating off the large gray water tank 
sitting off to the left
Brief with uncommon heft
An eerie, high, high, high pitched tone
That stood his hair on end, raced his pulse and...
Cleared his mind
Billy, Billy boy
It is time

We're eternal loners 
Drawn by an old rock and 
space below a white cedar tree 
The sirčne and me

Same place 
Another quiet night
A waning moon
Clouds that'll obscure it's light
The easy falling red-yellow spoon
Noticed from afar
He went without asking
Into a field the color of tar
It was there
Mouse like
A hundred yards or so 
Spitting distance almost
No fear at all
This isn't his first
And much, much later
As he started to walk away
It started to sing, humming a song
That made his day
A powerful rhythmic put, put, sound
Audible it seems 
For miles around
Loud enough to wake the dead
Shades of the yore and hereafter
Echoing in his head
As the locals slept
He walked slowly home
To a sound I can imitate
Alone

Took a while for him to realize
It's not that they don't care
Some things some Montserratians just can't hear
No matter how unreal or surreal
Some things some Montserratians just can't feel
No matter the clarity
Whatever it may bee
Some things some Montserratians just can't see

He might not be as educated as John Doe
Not as enlightened as some who claim to "know"
But the seeming fool
When the books were closed
Attended school

Me a go dance masquerade
To de fife and de drum
Me a go huff and puff
And blow all o dem raas-cloth down
Me a go invoke Cowitch Ghaut
When de time come

Me a go dance masquerade
Dance masquerade
To de fife and de drum
Me a go wail
Me a go prance
Me a go dip and fly
And…
Bun Massa raas-cloth down
Red and sulphur ina me eye
When de time come
Me a go dance masquerade
Dance masquerade

To me fife and me drum

Ahh,
The nostalgic view
Looking forwards and back
The sights and sounds
That nurtured MaC


The sounds of MaC - copyright © 2003 Ahkenaton  all rights reserved