letra de bajour: where is the tribe for me? - nancy dussault
[emily]
where, where
where is the tribe for me?
where, living in some primitive stage
is that unstudied breed
who’ve somehow managed
coming of age
unhelped by margaret mead?
where, where, where is my ethnic group?
where are the savage pre-adamites
who live, unseen, unknown
waiting to show me p-b-rty rites
that i can call my own?
you’re not an entomologist
until you get the word
you’re not an ornithologist
until you get the bird
like some unfrocked theologist
i haven’t got a prayer
i’m not an anthropologist
until i write a diatribe
on why tribe a is there!
but where?
where can they be at?
where’s their nat-ural habitat?
where they still roam free
anthropologic’ly!
tell me where, where is the tribe for…
sometimes i see myself…
searching, searching
through the jungle, dark and deep
on safari, searching for my tribe!
through the wild birds…
awk! awk!
and the poison darts…
pht-t-t!
and the jungle cats…
roar!
and the (slap)…
tse-tse-flies!
food gone, water gone
all the guides have run away
and the drums! the drums!
searching for my tribe!
through the boa constrictors…
ss-ss!
and the gorillas…
ah-i-ah!
and the quicksand…
shlurp! shlurp!
and the … awk! awk!
ph-t-t-t!
roar!
(slap) … tse-tse flies!
onward through the area
burning with malaria!
alone on my safari
and there’s no one to be sorry
if i rot…with dry rot!
but wait… wait …
look there… look there!
through the giant bush-wood trees!
grass huts! cooking fires!
can it be my tribe?
now they’re coming…
strangely painted savages
and at last, l’ve found them!
here is the tribe for me!
no more laughing hyenas…
hee-hee-hee!
no more stampeding elephants…
onk! onk!
no more drums…
bob-a-loo-ai-yay!
no more… ss-ss!
ah-i-ah!
shlurp! shlurp!
awk! awk!
ph-t-t-t!
roar!
(slap)… tse-tse-flies!
yes, here, here is my tribe!
and now they
come to greet me, crying “bwana bwana!”
“yes, i bwana! i bwana tribe!”
and they take me to meet their chief
and i enter a large hut
and i hear the strange music of…
[the sound of a mighty organ playing bach’s
“jesu, joy of man’s desiring”
is heard]
[emily, spoken]
… oh no! it can’t be! it’s…
albert! you beat me to it again
albert, tell me please
[emily]
where, where
where is the tribe for me?
one that has not heard of n.y.u
d.a.r. or l.b.j.!
people who bear no allegiance to
c.i.o. or c.i.a.!
oh, please, i’m on bended knees!
where are these aborigines
who were meant to be
my ph.d.!
tell me where
where is the tribe for me!
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