She said "It's hard for me to explain to you, the 
brightness of the light. 
I can still remember when my life was like that 
A real and painless beauty I remember as a kid 
When I thought that I knew everything and in a way I 
did 
She was a virgin then, a child in a million 
With deep round hazel eyes of blazing intuition 
She called me over to her side and said "Will you 
please listen 
I wanna show you something and it's something I've just 
written 
And I'm calling it Poetry and Jazz" 
She watched her happy family turn to a broken home 
Her father left with someone else, her mother on her 
own 
Her fourteenth birthday, her mother spent in tears 
She celebrated on her own, her adolescent years. 
It was hell then, caught in the crossfire 
Of an emotional triangle she couldn't keep together 
I heard her softly as she sobbed upon my shoulder 
Saying "As you are the closest thing I've got to a 
brother 
Explain to me why is life so sad" 
Sixteen was better 'cause sixteen was boys 
Make-up parties alcohol and clothes 
And saying to your boyfriend "Come on get out of bed 
Look, its three o clock in the afternoon and my 
mother's coming back" 
And she smiled then, her eyes filled with laughter 
She didn't know if it was love, but it didn't really 
matter 
She called me on the phone and said "Hey get this big 
brother 
I just got rid of one boyfriend and got myself another 
And listen, this one drives a Jag" 
She left school and boyfriends for university 
Three years of study for an art degree 
Her clothes were outrageous her hair was many colours 
Her work was radical and so were her ideas 
She said "This is brilliant this place is heaven 
On a score of one to ten, I'd give this place eleven 
It kicks you up the ass and it fires you with ambition 
I often used to feel as if my life was just a prison 
Now I realise it isn't quite that bad" 
I was invited to an exhibition a little while ago 
To an art gallery in Paris where she has a studio 
She looked sophisticated she was wearing a bronze tan 
And she'd sold all her work for some outrageous sum 
And I looked at her and I started laughing 
I said look you're supposed to be an artist you're 
supposed to be suffering 
And she just smiled back and pointed to this painting 
Of a young girl around which she'd written out this 
poem 
She'd shown me once called Poetry and Jazz 
My name is Angela I am twelve years old 
I've given up on working hard and doing as I'm told 
I see a child psychologist who's spotted in my head 
A recipe for delinquency or something just as bad 
But I'll fight for my independence 
I see the world in another way to my teachers and my 
parents 
My priorities are different and my life is not as 
aimless 
I am not disruptive and I'm not dangerous 
I've rhythm and purpose like poetry and jazz 
She said "It's hard for me to explain to you, the 
brightness of the light. 
I can still remember when my life was like that 
A real and painless beauty I remember as a kid 
When I thought that I knew everything and in a way I 
did