From Willcox, 1960, as best as I can remember.
The music is a surprise without a ribbon.
A box full of sounds, orchestras,
rock bands, and a chorus of sacred lovers.
Such music will take us somewhere wonderful.
Leave trouble behind.
Get that cold bolt from the blue,
get ball lightning, be the lightning rod—
unshakable, undeterred, unflinching—
stay off the highways that go nowhere fast.
Time to get magical, get heated, be fiery!
Get out of the rut...jump, leap, hop-scotch,
pogo stick, bicycle, tricycle, and fire up
that blue ’54 Chevy pickup.
But it’s a stick shift.
It’s Peggy Sue’s. She can drive anything.
We’ll all ride with her.
Turn on the radio.
Listening to the music, laughing and singing.
Holding hands and shouting,
It’s Elvis!
Turn it up.
Turn it up.
Go. Go. Go.
From: Memories and the Things Left Behind:
A Non-linear Recollection
Unpublished MS p. 10
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