Don't Get Around Much

It was few years back that I recorded this Duke tune and I still play it frequently when the dark clouds of nostalgia capture me, ghosts from the past, feathered promises drying like fillets of Labrador cod on Hemlock wood racks. If heartbreak lets me appreciate Duke Ellington on a deeper level, then that's a price I'll pay. I'm cheap about everything else, but it's only because morality clings to each dollar and it's a form of responsibility to boycott everything. Rains came to Guatemala and I am scratching my Mexican sunburn until it bleeds. I noodled around on this tune and decided I had some new things to say with it, my vocabulary of grief has grown. I missed the Saturday dance. I heard they crowded the floor. I couldn't bear it without you. I don't get around much anymore.