I need a drum and not just any drum. I need a drummer too, and not just any drummer.
The drum must be the water drum we use, and the drummer must be the man I know when he is the fireman.
I need a gourd and not just any gourd. I need a staff too, and not just any staff.
The gourd must be beaded, with leather tassels swaying at the bottom when I use it, when we use it.
The staff must be a symbol when I or another of us holds it, to show we are the ones to listen to, we are the ones who none can step in front of while we sing.
I need a song to sing and not just any song.
It must be the right song for the occasion, and right for the time, the song I sing four times.
I need four songs to sing four times. I need the right songs for the hour, for the need, and for the night.
I need that drummer, who with his father taught me every song to sing by the hour of each night.
I need that drummer whose voice matches mine, who drums our beat, water droplets splashing up with each fast strike of the carved stick he uses to chase our songs ever faster, every time we repeat them.
I need to sing these songs and sing them in order, sing them to life again.
I need to sing from sunset to sunrise.
I need the right drum and the right gourd, keeping pace and making me sing faster.
I need to sing these songs now, to help everything I know, and everyone.
I need to sing, and I need to sing with the others.
I need to sing for help for all of us.
I need to sing.