ode to a white lady

o lady, white lady,
in cardigan sweater
with glasses on chain,
comfort shoes of soft leather

stepping up to the keyboard
and making me ask,
is this going to work?
is she up to the task?

how will she fit in?
is she up to snuff?
can she even play our
multicultural stuff?

we’re rockin’ and rollin’
and layin’ down beats
we clapclap our hands
and we stompstomp our feets

we’re jazz and we’re gospel
we’re african too
a little funk disco
and a whole lot of blues

we’re too “hip” and “with it”
to be held behind
by a lady, white lady
who’s behind the times

but wait, what is this?
what chords do we hear?
how does this white lady
allay all our fears?

this gramma can swing!
she’s on top of the beat
she’s noddin’ her head
and she’s tappin’ her feet

to a mean eight-bar blues
rife with dominant sevenths!
and this lady, white lady,
can add in elevenths!

ashamed of our prejudice
we have to recant
our doubts of this lady
in blue leisure pants

o lady, white lady
in cardigan sweater
we’re sorry we doubted
we should have known better

o lady, white lady
in soft comfort shoes
i hope when i’m your age
i can rock out like you