We don't play slow and we don't play fast, we play half fast
Not too slow, not too fast. Kind of like half-fast.
All them weird chords which don't mean a thing...you got no melody to remember, and no beat to dance to
A lotta cats copy the Mona Lisa, but people still line up to see the original.
What we play is life.
Every time I close my eyes blowing that trumpet of mine, I look right into the heart of good old New Orleans. It has given me something to live for.