He is an American music legend
The late great Louie Armstrong
The man with the Golden Horn
I remember the first time I saw him
I didn't really want to go.. But you know how
demanding girlfriends can be. So she finally talked me into it.
So there we were dancing and grooving to the music
Danny Barcelona on drums.. Satchmo sucking on that awesome
golden horn. Every few numbers he'd break out
singing in that thick old deep south molasses voice of his..
Talk about something being the bee's knees
He made good love possible
Until the song stopped
Louie moped this brow with the same old white hankie.
That signaled the intermission. My world spun back to normal
Then swung wildly out of control. in one moment I went from
handsome lover to ordinary man, My feet were again clodhoppers
Big and clumsy. the dream was dying.. for Elizabeth looked over her
shoulder and saw HIM. A young Adonis lounging alone under the
Standing room only sign I knew my goose was cooked
While I stood alone
Beyond the end of my dream
I watched them dancing
It looked like they were in a world of their own.
dancing cheek to cheek.. Satchmo was crooning La Vie En Rose.
God I was jealous.. I wanted to go over and pull them apart
to punch his lights out ... In fact... But just then Barcelona broke
out in a drum solo that would have made Crupa put aside the sticks.
Coming in on a wing and a prayer Satchmo put that horn to his lips
.. just puckered up and blew a great note that put the stars to bed.
My forward march stopped and my heart took flight. Just when I thought
it was safe to breath again.. old Satchmo picked up that hankie and waved
at me.. I waved right back .. he picked up the horn again and blew some
long lilting broken hearted melody and my poor old heart broke with him.
That when I left
All the way back home
In my Rocket Eighty Eight
I cried bitter tears
Now those years are history . Once in a while I go back there in my mind
Louie is dead now . marching along with the saints up above.. I'm still down
here.. still all alone..Not a glimpse of heaven in sight but when I play old Louie's
music on that old half worn out Victrola in the back parlor I am again reminded
That all in all its still a pretty wonderful world.