MJ to Prince to everyone now
They all strut in Sly’s platform shoes
Eccentric, ethnocentric, loud and allowed
Proud, unbowed espoused the Good News

I saw him Ames, Iowa in 1971
He was already bearing the weight
Of the fame of Higher and so much Fun
And of course, he was late

I regret I remember that fact at all
Rather than just the joy of his band
As we, the corn-fed-recently-overalled
Girls and boys shouted as one:  “Stand!”

Stand, they will try to make you crawl
Those words aided in ending a war
And now once again let’s heed his call
As the death of Liberty is at the door

But Sly was never about politics
His mission was healing the wound
Of racism, sexism – what got us to this:
A world whose  death is presumed 

Raised near enough to San Francisco
Recordings of gospel at ten
Wrote his first hit, “C’mon and Swim”, oh
(we danced truly nerdy back then) 

multiracial, mixed-gendered band maestro
Gospel jazz rock soul funk pop hits
No limit to the heights he might go
But genius and drugs do not mix

(I left out “psychedelic”, just too many sibs
And really no words to capture his gift
(there probably are  but that’s a failed mission
It’d be better by far  if I’d shut up and listen))

So take my advice as I’m heedful and needful:
Celebrate life with Everyday People!
If you have a record player it’s the first track
OK see ya later – we’ll be right back

…..

There! Right!? I mean the way he wrote!
Musically tight with funk/jazz – so gone so gone
Piano: two chords, the bass? One note
Different strokes for different folks, and so on and so on

and scooby-dooby-dooby
Ooh, sha-sha
We got to live together
Ooh, sha-sha 

It was a long way down but he came ‘round
A memoir and Questlove Doc
about how he found the sound of feet-off-the-ground
And taught his demons  to rock

Ooh, sha-sha