Jazz is Dead

Jazz is Dead

Jazz is dead in the holder
weep and moan, reap and sew.
Jazz is dead in the holder,
weep and moan, reap and sew.

Jazz is dead, it has no holder
for a soul, for a soul, for a soul.

My capacity for getting high
is higher.

My inclination toowards staying
dry is dryer.

I’m on a speed chase, and
nothing’s getting near.

I no longer fear, I’m flying
I’m flying, I’m flying, I’m fine.

Jazz is dead in the holder.
Jazz is dead, it has no holder
for a soul, for a soul, for a soul.

-Bree 2003