It Really Puzzles Me To See Marijuana

Never Play A Thing The Same Way Twice.

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

As A Youngster In The Little Orphanage Home In New Orleans, I Was The Bugler Of The Institution. When I Got To Be Around 13 Or 14 Years Old, They Took Me Off The Bugle And Put Me In The Little Brass Band.

You Either Have It Or You Don't. You Play Your Horn Just Like You Sing A Song Or A Hymn. If It's In Your Heart, You Express Yourself In The Tune.

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.