I'm A Spade, You're An Ofay. Let's

You Can't Take It For Granted. Even If We Have Two, Three Days Off I Still Have To Blow That Horn A Few Hours To Keep Up The Chops. I Mean I've Been Playing 50 Years, And That's What I've Been Doing In Order To Keep In That Groove There.

You See, Pops, That's The Kind Of Talk That's Ruining The Music. Everyone's Trying To Do Something New, No One Trying To Learn The Fundamentals First. All Them Young Cats Playing Their Wierd Chords. And What Happens? No One's Working.

And I Think To Myself What A Wonderful World. Oh, Yeah.

Some Of You Young Folks Been Saying To Me, "hey Pops, What You Mean 'what A Wonderful World'? How About All Them Wars All Over The Place? You Call Them Wonderful? And How About Hunger And Pollution? That Aint So Wonderful Either." Well How About Listening To Old Pops For A Minute. Seems To Me, It Aint The World That's So Bad But What We're Doin' To It. And All I'm Saying Is, See, What A Wonderful World It Would Be If Only We'd Give It A Chance. Love Baby, Love. That's The Secret, Yeah. If Lots More Of Us Loved Each Other, We'd Solve Lots More Problems. And Then This World Would Be A Gasser.

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.