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Teacher Resource Book
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Ray was born poor in Florida,
In a shack about the size of a corridor.
This was 1930, the month of September,
You can read more about it in his memoir.
Ray’s mother could barely even pay the bills,
But she fostered, encouraged his musical skills.
These were lessons that were instilled in him,
Given again and again till they’re sinking in.
Blindness was a shackle like a handcuff,
That he wore all the time, and times were tough.
Ray wasn’t conventional, never ordinary,
He added backup singers, the more the merry
Er, some said, “Be the same as us, assimilate,”
But the way Ray plays is Ray’s way.
So, if you stand in Ray’s way, you better make way,
You should have seen him on his pay day.
They allotted the pay, and divided it up,
But Ray demanded that they pay him in ones.
In case the manager tried to get deceptive,
And trick Ray, in case Ray got less than the rest did.
Say, “Ohhh!”
Say, “Yeah, yeah!”
Say, “Hey!”
That’s just Ray’s way.
(x2)
The main subject and theme of his life,
Was to be the brightest light you’re seeing at night.
Music was the haven where Ray escaped,
He sang a little melody, and piano-played.
Nothing fancy or flashy, nothing ornate,
Just a lil’ R&B in a Gospel way.
It sounded sublime like summertime,
High and amazing the lines would climb,
And surpass the song that was sung before,
Went beyond them; man, it’s off the wall.
Ray supplied the notes like a bountiful feast,
With so much food that you’re dying to eat.
It’s an interesting occurrence, a phenomenon,
That lots of musical greats are totally blind:
Stevie Wonder, Art Tatum, Blind Lemon Jefferson,
And Ray could pound the keys with the best of them.
Say, “Ohhh!”
Say, “Yeah, yeah!”
Say, “Hey!”
That’s just Ray’s way.
(x2)
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