It's Getting Almost So Bad A Colored

I Don't Get Involved In Politics. I Just Blow My Horn.

Give Me A Kiss To Build A Dream On And My Imagination Will Thrive Upon That Kiss Sweetheart, I Ask No More Than This A Kiss To Build A Dream On.

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.

Not Too Slow, Not Too Fast. Kind Of Like Half-fast.

A Lot Of The Musicians Asked Me If When I Hit My High-cs On The Records I Had A Clarinet Take The Notes. Some [thought] I Had Invented Some Kind Of Gadget So I Could Play High Register. They Weren't Satisfied Until They Handed Me A Trumpet That They Had With Them And Had Me Swing It. Then They Cheered.