Every sip Made the steps Come easier More fluidly

Until a petty attempt At soul reclamation Brought about A full scale rebellion Erupting each time His foot struck The floor

Bass driven earth quakes Cutting through Space and time Removing shackles From his legs

For But One night

He found freedom In a beat That mimicked That Of his own heart

Transcending suffering Through Harmonic Resonance

This ghost dance Represents An epic struggle Between Past and future

Each vying for control Each trapped in a cycle Of survival

I think god Was a DJ Remixing Day and night Building up to that Perfect moment An eclipse of sound, Space and time

Making it Rain footsteps Like meteor showers

Giving birth to entire generations With the DNA Of One sampled drum loop We are all The bastard children Of Clyde “The funky drummer” Stubblefield, Gil Scott heron, Muddy Waters, and Robert Johnson

Robbed of our heritage As they are robbed of royalties

But you can’t stop the DJ

Telling the story Found In every Record groove Like rings on a tree

Our history has become synthesized Digitized into Two second trumpet loops Sped up to 143 Beats per minute And layered between Samples of Ella Fitzgerald and Bellita woods Singing the universe To tears

All set to the pulse Of a Bootsy Collins Bass Lick Laced with a little AC/DC Electric guitar Fix

Drawing upon a Musical Catalogue The likes of which Has never Before been possible

The languages that we speak Matter little on a dance floor

As we all understand The language Of rhythm Just as it courses Through our veins

Keeping us alive In perfect time

Who needs I metronome I write to My pulse

They have driven Our culture Underground Demonized our art forms Attempted to make our Music Illegal

But until they silence the beat That lies Within each of us We will continue to dance Reclaiming self With every step Becoming one with every melody

The Buddhists Have a name for This They call it nirvana

Many choose to detour Through ecstasy But it rarely lasts Long enough

You see It is hard To keep the sun from rising

I wanna steal a plane Paint it like the Merry pranksters Remove all the seats And chase the sunset Around the world To Dub-Step Remixes Of Sade songs

This ghost dance is Sacred Further Than that formulaic Two step Line dance, Electric slide Bullshit

Steeped in shamanic Tradition Providing the pulse of this planet

You have Heaven In the soles Of your feet

And it is only When you Bring heaven To earth With purpose That you will Learn What it means To be alive

And it is in those moments When you will Know Exactly what I Mean When I say

I think god WAS A DJ