JOSEPH LAMB!

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He was from the land of Uncle Sam, His tunes are uniquely American

 

Joseph Lambs hands rhymed like "God Damn" for making us dance was part of the man's plan

 

His Rag/Tune of Contemptment, rang in the rooms we rented

Just like Mr. Joplin, he had us, hoppin, boppin, MJ Moon walkin

 

His Rag of Patricia with heat made us dance and move our cartoon feet, and made our cakewalk stomps go beat! beat! beat! boy how we were dancing in our meets every week.

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Our happiness he did seek with his Bohemia rag that was so very unique

The clubs floor would always go creek/creek/creek

 

And when "Champagne" came on so clear, up and down, went grandma's hair, without care, And we/both started dancing with a wooden chair.

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And Ethiopia rag had his fingers curled

For impressing the world he was with the girls

 

Boy how he was a rapper

With the flappers, as mad as a hatter, it was

Escorts he shattered, like "Hit me master!"

 

He took em to his hotel room

And like the tunes of his bass line booms

He put babies into many escort's wombs

 

His life was a breeze, The apple of his eye was Felicia Keys. 

 

As the days of ragtime, faded away, Mr. Lamb

Continued to play, at home his neighbors loved his "public-concert-ways"

 

He still got "Accountant-80K-Paid"

 

With the melody/basses of a future "La Bamba", and a "Help Me Rhonda"

Few have quite since mastered the Ragtime genre

 

- David Ras

- Writers Portfolio

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