We had our own bus that we drove and slept in together. Brass cradled at our feet, passing miles and miles of America. We performed in richer rooms that we could ever stay in. Because our skin was shades darker than theirs. The people who gave their money to hear us play and danced with their sweetheart had the gilded bedrooms to turn in to. We would never see more than the first floor and what the mangers decided to show us. When the gigs were done we had to find a new place to stay. Even though we brought the Swing.
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