- Vol. 01
- Chapter 11
A lil’ bit of night musicI played Vivaldi to the tomatoes
so I played jazz to the dog.
Those tomatoes - they were Baroque,
Baroque and Baroll, but this dog -
he ain't got no Bach, but he got howl -
he's a jazz dog!
He's a three-am-bar dog, whisky sours
until that hot dawn comes pulling
at your heels doing the beat
with those daring-flared shoes.
That's why he won -
he's a pizzazzy pijazz hound.
And you know, Gerald,
You can't live your life through a dog.
That's called being vicarious.
Now come and help polish the trophy cabinet.
Beeswax duster and a head tilt
from those floppy ears
and a look in the eyes
like a hundred years
Yeah, he's a jazz hound.
He's a jazz dog.