If You Have To Ask What Jazz

At First It Was Just A Misdemeanor, But Then You Lost The "mis-de" And You Just Got Meaner And Meaner.

It's Getting Almost So Bad A Colored Man Hasn't Got Any Country.

My Whole Life, My Whole Soul, My Whole Spirit Is To Blow That Horn.

The Brick House Was One Of The Toughest Joints I Ever Played In ... Guys Would Drink And Fight One Another Like Circle Saws. Bottles Would Come Flying Over The Bandstand Like Crazy And There Was Lots Of Plain Common Shooting And Cutting. But Somehow All That Jive Didn't Faze Me At All. I Was So Happy To Have Some Place To Blow My Horn.

You See, Pops, That's The Kind Of Talk That's Ruining The Music. Everyone's Trying To Do Something New, No One Trying To Learn The Fundamentals First. All Them Young Cats Playing Their Wierd Chords. And What Happens? No One's Working.