Wednesday, 4 May 2011



Leon Bismark "Bix" Beiderbecke
(March 10, 1903 – August 6, 1931)

It was said of Bix
That his Cornet spat out notes
Like shooting bullets at a bell
And his solos sounded as sweet
As a girl saying yes.
Bix Beiderbecke was simply the best
He was at the birth of hot music
His light illuminated
The jazz age
His Cornet accompanied
The roaring twenties
He was a romantic legend,
The young man with a Horn
But in keeping with the character
Of the very best of youth
His flame burned very brightly
But equally it burned quickly
And like the most beautiful star
He burned himself out
All too soon
Bix lived for the jazz
But died for the booze


When Artie Shaw
Was the King of Swing
His liquorice stick
Was made to sing

With a beat
To tap your toe too
Or melodies
To serenade you

Swing to get the kids
A jumping
Tunes to get the blood
A pumping

Artie Shaw and his
Tuneful clarinet
The King of Swing
Was as good as they get


I pray for peace around the world
Each day on bended knee
So why does such a prayer of peace
Go unanswered, answer me
Its not that God doesn’t hear the prayer
He wants the same you see
God prays for peace around the world
Each day on bended knee
But his prayers remain unanswered
For mankind is deafened to his plea


We certainly don’t have a lot
But we are content with what we’ve got
We may not be among the wealthiest
But we are certainly among the happiest
Because we don’t have to have the best of everything
We just make the best of everything we have


Here is an important life tip
That will help you like as not
If you see a lot, take a few
If you see a few, take the lot


The blue jean boy
His black Perfecto
Over his white T
Just watched Brando
In The Wild Ones
Wanted to hit the road and go

The blue jean boy
Told his brother Michael
That he was a wild one
And he bought a motorcycle

The blue jean boy
Took to the road he chose
What happened that day
Nobody really knows
But when he hit the road
Blue jean boy never arose


A mellow fellow
A fellow in yellow
A fellow called Morello
Morello played the cello
Morello didn’t bellow
Morello was mellow
The fellow ate his jello
His jello was yellow
Mellow yellow jello
For a mellow fellow


Mary, lady with the malady
The marmaladie lady
M’lady marmalade
Mary the marmaladie lady

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