The Four Unsung by Kingston's Three Sons

Written by Ronald Allen Bell~

Produced by G-Dawg Trading~ 

From the book, Poems for the Ponder~

Poem about four prisoners on death row that figure out how to make some pretty good music. There is a sequel to it where a guard falls so love with the Four Unsung, that during a flood, he risks his own life for the life of the four prisoners and their beautiful music. 

Pt: 1

Lyrics:

The girl in the cell next to mine can sing a note so very clean.
A to C to E to D just like a guitars' string.
I often dream about her, 
yes, about just every night.
Due I'm sure to these here bars as she surely ain't no sight. 

The man across the way can hum,
his vibrations will blow your mind.
They reflect his feels so truly that in others they reside.
He loves to tell us stories in the dismal cold, dark night.
his words sink in deep and take the sadness from our minds. 

[chorus]
If you could hear our melody your ears would be wanting more. 
Confinement makes for practice time, we've mastered every score. 
It's more than a shame no free men's ears will be swaying to our beats.
Until we hang, the Four Unsung Gang,
plays only for release.

The elder soul whom rarely speaks in the corner cell to which we're blind,
bounces stones upon the walls of stone to which he is confined.
His rhythm for an older cat, well he's doing more than fine. 
His percussions are most captivating for such a captive guy. 

I fancy myself a whistling lad.
Never do I misplace a tweet.
Make it collide with the other vibes keep rhythm with my feet. 

I write the rhymes we place in time with our smooth, methodic beats.
A task I enjoy immensely as a poet's what I be. 

[chorus]
If you could hear our melody your ears would be wanting more. 
Confinement makes for practice time, we've mastered every score. 
It's more than a shame no free men's ears will be swaying to our beats.
Until we hang, the Four Unsung Gang,
plays only for release.