Tenor Man

Weary tenor man, oh why must you blow

so mean to me, baby? Why do you lilt

whisper hollow but insistent as though

every star tumbles from the sky, spilt

in measures coaxed so sweetly from the bell?

Your breath to my soul, harmony in blues

when your spirit wraps me in a spell

of pain and past and nothing left to lose.

Prez at the window, pasted to the bar

or scraping heels along the avenue

stretching to timeless years, so near yet far

away from me into the fog of you.

I ain't got nothin but the blues baby,

bitter deep and sweet as muse baby.

Reviews

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I can imagine this as a poem written by Billie Holiday.
She got her voice from the great tenors...
the smooth ones.
Great jazz piece, great poem.
Jack

[Tim McGovern]

You do this better than any chick i know
( hip daddy talk huh?)
So many great phrases, i loved the "pasted to the bar" play on music/alcohol
this is really bouncy earth jazzy
submit it baby