My Fool's Gold, My Gold.

So I get onto this bus, University headed.
Working over summer, campus job.

Break Dance image in my head, light purple lights on a red stage, hat bowed down

The lady I was aware of met my eye and I sat down right opposite her.

"Boy, I can see it, can I see your palm?"

So now I'm randomly excited, I'm gonna find out stuff about myself seen by another on my palm. Cool.

"My name is Mamma Love. My name, on paper, is Angela Seventhunders. From New Orleans."

Cool, Mama Love.

"Boy, if you could see what I could, whooo!, You have been gifted!"

Whooo... Me on track, headphones blaring, 8 Mile, Mozart, Satch, Me, Sharp Note on Impeccable Beat... "Whoo!"?

Me and my gold, my everlast.
A felt tipped velvet word mile,
Me and my gold, my ever past,
Tinkles in my ears as I smile.

Boom, boom, it sounds as I laugh with all the gifts I can lay my hands on.

"Boy, you also think too much, both of yourself and not, and my name is Mama Love."

The sparkle didn't really fade, as my guitar strung out in tone, but pointed my eyes forward.
And but I do realize that my foolery is such a bliss,
and for that I don't atone.

I'm having this semi epiphany, I can be a fool for life,
for that just makes me deaf to a no,
and I got Mamma Love telling me so -

"Boy, I see you doing good".
Street grease, Deaf tones, iPhones, Reality and Music. Sure, yay!

She said it off a palm...

So I am on this bus, right? University headed. Summertime. Campus Job.

... read it off your own damn palm, then...

And for the overt foolery that just don't cut it -

"Boy, sometimes, you just have to cut out the bull... And my name is Mamma Love, spread the 'word', spread the 'love'".

Things align, I feel it, you feel it, you do - you know you do -
and if there's one more thing I have to say to you -

We're happy if we can be fools when we like, not fools when we like to be happy.

- know that if you need to.