Can't Unplug a Voice

We are the noise.
You can't unplug a voice.

Second half, the speakers die,
Screens go dark against the sky.
One strange second, not a sound;
Somebody starts to tap the ground.
A heel, two hands, a chest tap back,
The north end catches what we clap.
The players turn. We give them more.
Our throats become the scoreboard roar.

No plug, no wire, no volume knob.
Leave one beat—then give it all you've got.

We are the noise—you can't turn us down.
Hands in the air, feet on the ground.
Pull every plug, we'll still have a voice.
We are, we are, we are the noise.

We are the noise.
We are, we are, we are the noise.

We are the noise.
We are, we are, we are the noise.

(We are the noise.)
(We are the noise.)

A phone held high above the row
Catches what the screens can't show:
Granddad tapping on his tin,
Little sister counting in.
Back at home, they learn our beat,
Kitchen spoons and dancing feet.
Not quite together, not quite clean—
The loudest thing we've ever been.

No plug, no wire, no volume knob.
Leave one beat—then give it all you've got.

We are the noise—you can't turn us down.
Hands in the air, feet on the ground.
Pull every plug, we'll still have a voice.
We are, we are, we are the noise.

I never sang where I could be heard.
I mouthed along and swallowed the words.
In that dark, somebody held my hand.
For the first time, I sang.

We are the noise—you can't turn us down.
Hands in the air, feet on the ground.
I found my place. I found my voice.
We are, we are, we are the noise.

The lights come back.
I keep singing.