Drabble rabble, the saxophones babble, tossing a feather into the ether,
It roars a vertical vibe north to the heavens in a freight train called desperation.
Piano steps rise and fall up the skyway blues and the feather keeps bouncing,
Reaching for the stars before the devil knows it’s gone.
Ba-dumb drum rum drinks liven up the mood with drops of boom
and sprinkles of zazz, like rain drops rolling off the cymbal’s jazz.
Cacophonies in unison find together the essence of improvisation,
And blind the eyes of ignorant, monotonous listeners.
Roar on, little feather, babble on with the phone and the horn!
Keep on flying skyways before the devil knows you’re gone.