At first it was just a misdemeanor, but then you lost the "mis-de" and you just got meaner and meaner.
When you're with another tea smoker it makes you feel a special kinship.
When you're dead, you're done.
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.
It's getting almost so bad a colored man hasn't got any country.
I had a chance to play with the best musicians that were coming through because I was pretty good myself or else they wouldn't have tolerated with me.