* unknown
MY KIND OF BLUE
Yeah, Miles Davis jazzing on
with his talented band
Oh bliss! Oh bliss!
ain’t they grand!
You don’t feel blue listening to thisssssss
Laid-back, lingering lullaby
Miles Davis W.O.W … WOW!
A Kind of Blue
(not to mention Bitch’s Brew)
hot, humid night
just outside dog barks
bringing me down
I twitch, I tremble
Do I need a port
and a good lie down?
I frown
at the thought
Yeah, Miles Davis jazzing on
with his talented band
Oh bliss! Oh bliss!
ain’t they grand!
You don’t feel blue listening to thisssssss
Laid-back, lingering lullaby
Miles Davis W.O.W … WOW!
A Kind of Blue
(not to mention Bitch’s Brew)
hot, humid night
just outside dog barks
bringing me down
I twitch, I tremble
Do I need a port
and a good lie down?
I frown
at the thought
* unknown
Miles Davis
you bastard, you!
of all the things you put me through
must it be
A Kind of Blue?
The band, your crew
they takes their turns
the silence filled
Chambers’ bass, Jimmy’s drums
you’re certainly never ho-hum
Evans’ & Kelly’s piano notes
plink plink, plink plink
how soft they fall
were they really there at all
did they subvert the concert hall?
or were they just to enthral
me? my life did stall
you bastard, you!
of all the things you put me through
must it be
A Kind of Blue?
The band, your crew
they takes their turns
the silence filled
Chambers’ bass, Jimmy’s drums
you’re certainly never ho-hum
Evans’ & Kelly’s piano notes
plink plink, plink plink
how soft they fall
were they really there at all
did they subvert the concert hall?
or were they just to enthral
me? my life did stall
* Rolling Stone
solitary horn, all forlorn
it’s a city sound
best heard
when no-one else is around.
I sit quietly, just me alone
Notes unimaginable
trembling right through my bones
and into my soul
my black dog head space
lighting up
that dark place, that stark place
with riffs of riotous rapture
Dare I fantasise
I certainly rhapsodise,
about Coltrane and Adderley
- those saxual strumpets -
or do I simply lose myself
in Miles’ mournful trumpet?
© eoin macdhugail 150114 (rev 2017)
it’s a city sound
best heard
when no-one else is around.
I sit quietly, just me alone
Notes unimaginable
trembling right through my bones
and into my soul
my black dog head space
lighting up
that dark place, that stark place
with riffs of riotous rapture
Dare I fantasise
I certainly rhapsodise,
about Coltrane and Adderley
- those saxual strumpets -
or do I simply lose myself
in Miles’ mournful trumpet?
© eoin macdhugail 150114 (rev 2017)
