My Big Ears Indicated A Talent For

If My Serenade Of Song And Story Should Serve As A Pillow For Some Composer's Head, As Yet Perhaps Unborn, To Dream And Build On Our Fond Melodies In His Tomorrow, I Have Not Labored In Vain.

Whenever I Heard The Song Of A Bird And The Answering Call Of Its Mate, I Could Visualize The Notes In Scale, All Built Up Within My Consciousness As A Natural Symphony.

You've Got To Appreciate The Things That Come From The Art Of The Negro And From The Heart Of The Man Farthest Down.

The Name Of My Ailment Was Longing, And It Was Not Cured Till I Finally Went To The Department Store And Counted Out The Money In Small Coins Before The Dismayed Clerk. When I Came To The House, I Held Up The Instrument Before The Eyes Of The Astonished Household.

I Knew The Whistle Of Each Of The River Boats On The Tennessee.