Not to dismiss Gershwin, but Gershwin is the chip; Ellington was the block.
Fly silly sea bird, no dreams can possess you, no voices can blame you for sun on your wings.
An unhappy mother does not raise a happy child.
Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got till it's gone.
I'm drinking champagne, got the head phones up high, can't numb you out.
You have this mounting aggressive ignorance with the rabbit's foot of their particular religion. You don't really have any kind of spiritual law, just a kind of a rabid mental illness. The songs are a little slice of life.