Verse 1 I woke up feeling funky, with a rhythm in my toes, Stepped across my bedroom floor and tripped over some clothes. Reached out for my marimba—my percussive pride and joy— But the space where it belonged just said, “No instrument, my boy.” I checked behind the bookshelf, checked behind the cat, Even asked my neighbor Phil, who simply said, “Why ask me that?” Chorus Where’d my marimba go? Did it sprout some legs and tiptoe out the door real slow? Is it on a tropical vacation sipping juice and lying low? Where, oh where, did my marimba go? Verse 2 I searched the kitchen counter—found a sandwich and a note: “BRB, gone stargazing. – M.” Was that something it wrote? I yelled into the stairwell, “Hey, come on, I need a beat!” But all I heard was silence and my slippers on my feet. I bargained with my ceiling fan, interrogated chairs, Accused my little cousin, who just blinked at me and stared. Chorus Where’d my marimba go? Did it hop onto a unicycle, join a circus show? Is it playing with a jazz band in a basement down below? Where, oh where, did my marimba go? Bridge Maybe it’s tired of my solos, Maybe it wants fame and tight drum-rolls, Maybe it ran off to explore A bigger stage, a louder roar. If it wins a Grammy, fine— But could it text? Or drop a sign? Verse 3 I followed tiny footprints made of dust and resonant tone, Right past the living room and out into the unknown. There it sat beneath a tree, basking in the morning light, Tapping out a jaunty tune like everything was right. I said, “You worried me!” It bonked a bar as if to say, “Relax, dude. I just needed my own spa day.” Final Chorus Now I know where marimbas go When the player gets too clingy or the tempo gets too slow— They wander off to meditate and let their rhythms flow. But if you listen closely, you’ll always hear them glow. Oh, now I know where marimbas go!
