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     .* O . .   ..   ..O  ..    337            17 Apr 2001             ) ( ')
   .*   O O* o o  o o  o o  o                                         (  / )
  *  ***O O  O O  O O  O O  O                                          \( _)|
 *      O o  o.*..o.*..o.*..o. .net               "Blue"                    *
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       *    /,`.-'`'    -.  ;-;;,_                                          *
      *    |,4-  ) )-,_..;\ (  `'-'             by Declan                   *
      *   '---''(_/--'  `-'\_)                                      *mE0w*  o
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         'Anada is cat-friendly..o*`       

 Man, it’s times like these that I could go for some
 real
         sad
                 jazz...
 
  The kind that permeates your skin
            and digs into your guts,
         that gritty sound
    that bends your will, closes your eyes...
 
  Where cigarette smoke hangs like a fog, 
       thick and foul,
     while whisky, scotch, gin and jazz intoxicate. 
 
   Point me to that joint man, 
     take me to that place where it’s played, 
   underneath a soft neon glow, 
       underneath some stairs with no rail,
  take me under some 
 real
         sad
                 jazz
 
    Gotta get there, gotta get there,
      gotta hear that hoarse sax 
  with that desperate longing voice that can’t be calmed,
               won’t be settled, 
     while the bass and skins lay down a slow
                                                  solemn
                                                         durge.
                               and outside
    the puddles grow while the suits get their trousers wet
      and bitch about the rain, 
 
    but the soft drizzle 
                         falls
                             straight through the ceiling
      and rolls cross your heart strings, 
              plucks at ‘em like the bass player. 
 
                 WAIL!!!!!!!!! Mighty Saxophone!
        bleed away my sorrows!
                 knowing we share pain is our comfort. 
 
      and soft, piano, soft-
   soothe away and speak in sullen sounds, 
        all measured out, 
              -whisper-
   “I know, I know...”
 
   ‘Cause man it’s times like these
     
            ...times like these...
   
 that I could go for some 
 real
         sad
                 jazz. 

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 ( o.o )  (c) Anada e'zine                             anada337  by Declan  o
  > ^ <                                                                     o
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