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POETRY AND JAZZ John Otway She said "It's hard for me to explain to you, the brightness of the light. I can still remember when my life was like that A real and painless beauty I remember as a kid When I thought that I knew everything and in a way I did She was a virgin then, a child in a million With deep round hazel eyes of bazing intuition She called me over to her side and said "Will you please listen I wanna show you something and it's something I've just written And I'm calling it Poetry and Jazz" She watched her happy family turn to a broken home Her father left with someone else, her mother on her own Her fourteenth birthday, her mother spent in tears She celebrated on her own, her adolescent years. It was hell then, caught in the crossfire Of an emotional triangle she couldn't keep together I heard her softly as she sobbed upon my shoulder Saying "As you are the closest thing I've got to a brother Explain to me why is life so sad" Sixteen was better 'cause sixteen was boys Make-up parties alcohol and clothes And saying to your boyfriend "Come on get out of bed Look, its three o clock in the afternoon and my mother's coming back" And she smiled then, her eyes filled with laughter She didn't know if it was love, but it didn't really matter She called me on the phone and said "Hey get this big brother I just got rid of one boyfriend and got myself another And listen, this one drives a Jag" She left school and boyfriends for university Three years of study for an art degree Her clothes were outrageous her hair was many colours Her work was radical and so were her ideas She said "This is brilliant this place is heaven On a score of one to ten, I'd give this place eleven It kicks you up the ass and it fires you with ambition I often used to feel as if my life was just a prison Now I realise it isn't quite that bad" I was invited to an exhibition a little while ago To an art gallery in Paris where she has a studio She looked sophisticated she was wearing a bronze tan And she'd sold all her work for some outrageous sum And I looked at her and I started laughing I said look you're supposed to be an artist you're supposed to be suffering And she just smiled back and pointed to this painting Of a young girl around which she'd written out this poem She'd shown me once called Poetry and Jazz My name is Angela I am twelve years old I've given up on working hard and doing as I'm told I see a child psychologist who's spotted in my head A recipe for delinquency or something just as bad But I'll fight for my independence I see the world in another way to my teachers and my parents My priorities are different and my life is not as aimless I am not disruptive and I'm not dangerous I've rhythm and purpose like poetry and jazz She said "It's hard for me to explain to you, the brightness of the light. I can still remember when my life was like that A real and painless beauty I remember as a kid When I thought that I knew everything and in a way I did

    


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